Jabamas & Budner Knives

Every now and then there are small nuggets in life worth remembering.  There are things I wish I would have documented in the past; maybe I did and just don't even remember I did. It's possible.

Fischer has always been pretty articulate.  He is four years old and he is quite the negotiator; tests his boundaries and certainly has the "stubborn" quality.  I think he might get a little of that from my side of the family, but ya know, those Livingston's aren't push-overs either.

The other day I was getting Fischer out of the bath and went to get him pajama pants.  He didn't want them, as he has been accustomed to sleeping in shorts all summer.  He couldn't remember what they were called and he kept saying, "jabama" and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what he was talking about until he got a hold of the pajama pants and threw them saying he didn't want "jabama" pants.  He knew he was saying it wrong too, but couldn't figure out the right word either.  So, now it's a small little joke.  Makes me chuckle; or I am perpetually tired and everything is funny - you know that feeling?

Last night at the dinner table, or maybe it was the night before, who really knows at this point in my life . . . some one had a knife and Fischer says, "I need a budner knife."  No one really needed "budner" knives or butter knifes for that matter.  There really was no use for them at dinner.  We had a good laugh at that one, too.  What a funny little guy.  The funniest is when he thinks his own jokes are funny; he's got a good laugh.

I love my boys.  They are awesome . . . all four of them. :)  If gmail would load right now, I would post a pic or two, but alas it's not in the starts for me tonight folks.