Grandboy (holding toy that’s been in a box for years now): Gwumpa I’m old enough NOWWWW to play with this?

Me: Not yet. Let’s see how you behave for a while yet.

Grandboy: Awwww you ALWAYS say that Gwumpa. (Brilliance ensues) How ’bout when I’m 8 years old? Can I open it when I’m 8?

Me (counter brilliance ensues): How ’bout we wait til you’re 8, and then I can answer the question?

Grandboy: YESSSS! I GET AN ANSWER WHEN I’M 8

(Watching nature show)

Grandboy: Gwumpa that wolf is going to kill that baby deer.

Me: Ayep

Grandboy: Go baby deer go

Me: O no now the cute baby wolf cub will die. It hasn’t eaten in weeks and needs food.

Grandboy: Oh

Me: No wait, the wolf is catching up! Go Wolfie go

Grandboy: Ah and now the baby wolf will have food now.

(Thinking)

Grandboy: That’s how it is, huh? Some things eat and some things get eaten.

Me: Yep. The important thing for them is to know which one is which pretty quickly.

—-

Nature shows mimic politics

Me (purposely singing loudly and off-key, and in odd registers)

Grandboy: WOW GWUMPA I love your singing!

Me (more bellowing)

Grandboy (holding up a toy person): But she HATES the singing. Not me though. I LOVE the singing!

Grandboy (carefully arranges pizza slices and brownies on a plate)

Me: …

Grandboy (presents the plate to me, and speaks in his best Butler voice): Hullo, suh… Care for some pizza and a whiff of brandy, my good suh?

Me: Indubitably