That takes care of that

Mary-Beth (in a voice so low it's almost a whisper): Mommy? There was a ear twig crawling by my toes on the ground over outside by the garden.

Me: Oh, you know that ear wigs can't hurt you, right? Did you walk away from him?

Mary-Beth (same low whispery voice): No. I killed him with a shubble.

That'll work.

That might be a problem.

(Jonah, calling from his room to Mary-Beth's room.)
Mary-Beth!..... Will you come help me organize?

(Mary-Beth, calling back in a sing-song'y voice.)
Nooooooo.

(Long pause, then Jonah again.)
Mommy? Will you come help me organize? Because I don't know what "organize" means.

"Mommy? Swinging high on the swings is a weally. impoh-tant. job."

For the record, she should get paid for it. She's weally. weally. good at it.

And the wisdom to know the difference

Mary-Beth has become something of an informer in recent months. Don't tell her any secrets, and don't do something tattle-worthy in her presence.

On Easter she tattled on her cousin Roman. I reminded her that it's not alright to tattle unless someone is getting into something dangerous. Y'know, someone's left the yard, fell off the swings, licking the barbecue, all that normal stuff kids do. What? Your kids don't lick the barbecue? Hm. Maybe mine tastes better. Anyway...

She came back about 20 minutes later and tattled on Roman again. I asked, "Mary-Beth, are you tattling?" She giggled and replied, "Nooooooooo. I'm not tattling. *gigglegiggle* I'm tell-ling."

Pardon me. My mistake. Carry on. ;)