Evie: “Did we bring our dish to passover?” – To be fair, it was a potluck at a Jewish school…

Evie: “Mama, I’ll sit in your lap until I’m nineteen. Actually, I’ll sit in your lap when I’m ten-teen! That’s one more.”

Sara: “He survived Iraq, but he’s not going to survive me. I’m going to kill him.”

Evie, forced to have accursed mint toothpaste: “My mouth is getting cold!”

Sara: “How can you not love a baby in a loin cloth?” – For the record, not our baby

Sara: “I’m kind of glad Oliver pooped in the bath.” – No explanation needed on that one, I think

Me: “Evie wanted the ‘Mommy Special’ for lunch.”
Sara: “With the raisins?”
Me: “And jam, right?”
Sara: “I think  that’s called the ‘Daddy’s-a-Sucker Special’.”

Me: “In high school I think was quiet, but not shy.”
Sara: “Pfffffft!”

Shane: “…there’s probably a lot of people out there talking about what a piece of $#it I am.”
Sara: “Mostly me when you’re running late for dinner.”

Sara: “I have the strongest desire to flip people off when they run that stop sign. Sometimes I just yell, ‘Stop sign!'”

Sara: “All of your tank tops are in the laundry.”
Evie, sobbing: “I want my babies to have food!”

Sara has basically worn nursing tank tops since Evie was born, and Evie has taken to wearing tank tops under all her clothes.

Sara: “Hmm?”
Evie: “Hmm is not a word. When I’m talking, I don’t like people telling me hmm. Now say it again.”

Holy grammar police!

Evie, singing Barbara Ann: “Went to the dance, looking for some ants…”

Evie: “Mama, don’t pick at your toes! Put some socks on. That’s what socks are for.”

Evie: “Everybody gets along with me. Everybody.” – Was that a threat?

Dabu: “This book smells like 1993.”