As I was feeding Gavin today, Carter started weaving a tale of epic proportions for a two year old. It all started with the toy he had in his hands – you put a plastic disc in the middle of it, pull on the trigger, and when you release it, the disc flies into the air. Carter suffered a scraped nose for the first weekend we had it and calls the disc inside it the “trigger.” Anyway, on to the story:

      Carter: Oh no!

      Me: What?!?!

      C: Bad Guy (who later morph’d into Spider Man) took the trigger and threw it into the pond!

      Me: Oh no!

      C: Carter went swimming in the pond to get it.

      Me: You did?

      C: Yeah – Sharks are in the pond. (this later morphed to crocodiles when he retold it to Grandma)

      Me: SHARKS?! What happened?!

      C: Sharks bit Carters hand off.

      Me: What?!

      C: Carter got the trigger.

      Me: What happened with the bad guy?

      C: He made a bad decision. No throwing in the pond.

      Me: Did he need a time out since we don’t throw things in the pond?

      C: Yeah.

      At least I know that he listens and understands the rules, even if he blatantly disregards them.

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      In the words of Grandpa, “I didn’t do it and I’ll never do it again”

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