Witty, witty child.

This week has been full of Isaac-isms.

"I feel bad for Snoopy, mom. I think he's really just misunderstood."
"I can't hear you, mommy. You're breaking up" (By the way...I was standing in front of him, telling him to clean his room)
"Those dishes are not for me. They are for my customers."
"I have told you two times already and I don't want to tell you again, mom."
"I already answered that mom and the answer has not changed."
"I'm not able to help, mom. I have a hole in my leg. I mean, my eye. Or my ankle."
"I kind of want a baby sister, but I don't want her to live at my house. And she can't ever play with my toys. And no drool. That's so gross."

I don't think I need to tell you that he's going to keep me on my toes for a very, very long time.