Coby, Colin, and Cameron. And a dog that isn't ours.
Oh, hey. Remember me? I used to blog here? I know it's been a few days, and I'm sorry because I'm sure you're all gripping the edge of your seats waiting for the next barely-coherent ramble or thrilling poop story. Right?
... Right?! ...
I've just been trying not to lose my mind. Because if you've read the last couple of blog posts or have "Liked" the Facebook page, you know that the tattling around this piece has reached critical levels. As in, my head is dangerously close to exploding. I love my boys dearly, but all this togetherness has me wishing they were in a daycare for a while.
Or, you know, a padded room.
But there's one bright spot: being with them so much means I don't miss a single gem that comes out of their mouths. Mostly from the middle ones, since Corbin is too young to say anything and Colin is eight now (sniff!) and his wide-eyed childhood innocence and naivete are beginning to wane and oh my gosh where did my baby gooooooo?
Um, sorry. *wipes eyes*
Anyway, without further ado, here are some of the best things I've heard from Cameron (5) and Coby (3) over the past few days:
Cameron (looking closely at Curtis's feet): Daddy! Your toes are trying to grow a mustache!
Coby (rolling his eyes upwards while wearing a cowboy hat): I'm trying to look at my eyebrows, but my hat is in the way. That's why cowboys can't see their eyebrows.
Cameron, excitedly, upon noticing a red spot on his face: Mommy! Mommy, look! Does this pimple make me look like a teenager?
Coby (wearing pot lids on his feet): My footwear makes me look eighteen years younger.
They may be slowly driving me to the brink of insanity, but at least they're kind enough to provide a few laughs along the way.
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