Pearls from little Mack

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Here is our little Mack. Does he look ornery to you? Well, he is. (Photo credit to Sonia Miller.)

When little Mack opens his mouth, I never know what’s going to come out of there. I blush easily, and when little Mack is in the room, I blush often. I always am on the edge of my seat because this child has an active curiosity, and he will say exactly what he is thinking.

I regularly jot down the pearls that come spewing regularly from his little mouth. Here are a few to give you a chuckle today.  I won’t be sharing the more embarrasing ones with you, however. I still retain a modicum of pride, which surprises me. But there it is.

While peering at an old coin: “Mom, were you born before or after 1869?”

A moment at our breakfast table:
Amalia: “Malachi, since I made you your breakfast, you have to do what I say today!”
Mack: “No I don’t. I’m sick, and Sicks don’t have to do what anybody else says.”
Me: (snorting) “‘Sicks’ do too have to do what other people say, especially if they are Six!”
Mack: (snorting back) (rolling eyes) (proving he’s not so Sick, after all) “HA!”

While watching the men’s gymnastics Olympics competition and then doing somersaults all over the living room rug: “Little kids are much more flexible than humans.”

While peering into his wallet, stuffed with coins:“Mom, want some money? I have WAY too much cents.”

Referring to an older lady at the table, while playing a board game:  “Well!  Now it’s the old bearded lady’s turn!”

Gazing across the room at an older woman:  “Mom, why is it that when ladies get older they look more like men?”

After spraying his face with pepper spray, we bathed his face with milk to ease the burning. Immediately his fiery face felt better, and he jumped down from his chair, relieved, and said “You’d better put that on Facebook, Mom. Milk works on pepper spray.”

After my explanation about the soft spot on a baby’s head, as he held his new niece Anya, I reminded him to be very, very careful of that delicate area.  “Feel the soft spot?” I asked, guiding his little hand over her head.  He shook his head.  “She’s just so soft all over,” he said.

Questions from one conversation before 8:00 a.m.: “Why does a dog have fur? Why do I have skin? Why is that butterfly green? What is skin made of? Why is a tongue wet? Why is the ball red? How many ticks are there?”

There you have it.

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