Lately, Ryan seems to be more verbal than normal. I never thought it was possible, but when it gets to be around 5pm and you realize that every discussion you have had with her that day has yet to possess a full sentence uttered without her interrupting, you start to catch on.
She is just so involved with explaining things to you, asking you to explain them to her, and reaffirming your explanation with an explanation of her own that does not quite fit, but works well enough that you let it slide just so she will STOP TALKING.
Mom: Ryan, you need to wear a sweater over your leotard to dance.
Mom: Because it's cold and windy outside.
Ryan: It's okay that it's cold, Mom. The cold is good because it helps planes fly faster.
Mom: Oh yeah?
Ryan: Yeah, the cold is good because it's really windy and blows really hard and fast and that makes the plane go faster.
Mom: Ryan, you need to hurry up and finish eating.
Ryan: Mom, it's okay if I go slow eating my pizza. Know why?
Ryan: Because if I go too fast I could make myself not breathe and then I would not be breathing and then I would be dead.
Ryan: Mom, you really shouldn't talk on the phone when you drive. Know why?
Ryan: Because you could be talking and not see that you are flying and then we would be dead.
I've forgotten the rest. There're so many, and they are sooooo random, they all begin to meld together.
Oh. Except for this one:
Mom: (reading "Harry Potter" aloud a bedtime) ...blah, blah, Harry Potter, blah, magic, blah, blah, wizard, blah.
Ryan: Excuse me, Mom.
Mom: (extremely exasperated sigh) What, Ryan?
Ryan: I need to get up and throw these boogers away. Know why? Cause they're yucky and gross and they're boogers and I don't want them crawling all over me while I sleep! You know, Harry once had boogers crawling all over him...
Mom: Good night, Ry.
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