... is a delightfully fun age. Just listen to what I've heard today:
Easton: "Mom, I need some medicine for my mouff and for my feet to make me better."
Mom: "Really? What's wrong with your feet?"
Easton: "They are falling off."
Easton (over, and over, and over, all morning long): "I'm going on a date wiff my Dad to Home Depot for lunch!"
Mom (several hours later): "Easton, did you have fun with Daddy at Home Depot?
Mom: "What did you see?"
Easton: "I see Frosty the Snowman wiff french fries!!!"
[Mom discovers that there must be a Wendy's on the way! Sweet Easton, who recently learned all about Frosty the Snowman at school, found it fascinating to eat a milkshake apparently named after him. Yum!]
Easton (randomly): "I'm falling down a waterfall!"
Easton: "Hey, Mom! Let's play Lincoln and Logs!"
Easton (watching me get ready in the morning): "You painting your face, Mom?"
Mom: "Yes, I'm painting my face."
Easton (encouragingly): "It looks nice, Mom."
Mom: "Thank you, Easton."
Easton: "You gonna brush your eye brown?"
(I suspect he's talking about mascara... and intending to say eyebrows.)
Mom: "Yes, in a minute."
Easton: "I like your forehead, Mom. It's nice."
Gotta love this kid!