Get outta the pit-tub.

In baby chipmunk voice, “I wanna get out of this pit-tub.”

 

“Not until you wash your hair.”

 

“I am an alien.  I have rubber brains.”

 

“That’s nice.  Wash your hair. Get out of the bath-tub.”

 

Later, in bed, whilst picking out a movie.

 

“You want to watch The Reef, mister?”

 

Baby chipmunk voice again, “What’s that about Munkel?”

 

“Fish.”

 

Quizzical look.  “And birds?”

 

Me, “Nope.  Just fish.”

 

Terrible tragedy has struck.  You can see in his eyes.  A moment passes.  He looks hopeful.  “And polar bears?”  (sounds like “pollrrrr beers”.)

 

“No Walter.  Sorry. Just lots of fish.”

 

“Oh.”  Sad again.  Poor bird.

 

His eyes gleam, “Do they have moms and kids and schools and trucks?  In the fish sea?”

 

“Yes. They probably do.”

 

“And do they have Munkle’s?” he asks doubtful.

 

“Naturally.”

 

I walk out of the bedroom.

 

As I am shutting the door, “Munkle, I love you like ketchup.”

Knowing him the way I do, this means a lot.

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Munkle.  Imma eat you up like a hotdog.”

“Well that’s awesome cause I already ate your little bird nose for my breakfast.  Deal with that.”

 

I hear giggling as I close the door.