On
Friday nights we trade baby-sitting with some really good friends. One Friday night the kids were with some friends that had a fish tank. One of the Fish was going to have babies. My friend said to Cannon, Look, this fish is going to have babies. She said that Cannon got very quiet and looked into the tank for a while and said, "Laurel, where is the hospital?"
Rook is one of our most picky eaters. He won't eat muffins, he won't eat nuts, he won't eat most things that we all like and he likes too. (once he has decided he doesn't want to eat it, he is dead set that he HATES it and it tastes like garbage.) Well the other day I went and got a
rotisserie chicken, took the legs off, and gave one to Wynn and one to Cannon. Rook wanted one and I told him there were only two and he could have something else. I took a piece of breast meat and put it on his plate and he looked at it and said he hated it. I said he had to take a bite. He took a bite of it and spit it out and said, "MOM! I hate it!!! It is got
poisen and I don't like to die!"