Phillip (age 3) is going through a phase of calling anyone who disagrees with him “a liar.” He has also picked up the oh-so-mature habit of calling them a “Liar, Liar, pants on fire.” He started in on his daddy this morning, while we were still in bed (he’s our alarm clock), so in Lannie’s defense, he was still pretty groggy. The conversation went something like this…

Phillip: Liar, Liar, pants on fire.
Lannie: My pants aren’t on fire.
Phillip: You’re a liar, and your pants are on fire.
Lannie: If my pants were really on fire, I would hope you would put out the fire.
Phillip: I would get a bag of marshmallows and roast them.

I see an impeccable sense of comedic timing colliding with a long string of junior high school detentions in his future.

“Mom, does a real cootie shot hurt?” she asked me.

“There’s no such thing as a real cootie shot,” I told her. “They’re just pretend.”

“I thought you had to get one when you get married,” she said. “You know, so your husband won’t give you cooties.”

“Hey, Dude.”

“I’m not a dude.  If I’m a dude, where’s my mustache?”

“Not all dudes have mustaches.”

“Okay, but all dudes have hair.”

“Some dudes don’t have very much hair.”

“Okay, all dudes have hair somewhere.“

Each of my three children has developed some form of this, but none as complicated as Phillip. He’s developed his own code of speech that I like to call “Phillipese” (not to be confused with Philippines, which is a real country). Caleb told me that next time he stays with Papa and Grandma (or anyone else), I will need to make a translation sheet so they know what he is talking about. Here is a rough start:

“I want apple juice grape juice.” This could mean he wants apple juice or white grape juice. Since he can’t really tell the difference in taste, and the difference in color is nominal, I usually just give him whatever we have. Don’t ask, don’t tell.

“Do it little bit big.” This refers to how much liquid he wants in his cup. It just means fill it up as far as it will go without spilling over. At one time, he would demand that we fill it to the top then pour some of it out into the sink (I think this is a sign of OCD), until Lannie convinced him that there were poor children in the world that didn’t have any juice to drink so he couldn’t waste it by pouring it down the drain. I think that is a circular argument, because you don’t do the starving children any favors by drinking more of it yourself. Fortunately, Phillip doesn’t have a very high level of logical thinking skills, so that argument worked for him.

“Mommy, you prayed the wrong way. Pray the front in the back and the back in the front.” I have no idea what this means. He says it every time I pray with him. When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.

When I stopped to pick up a much-needed feminine product, he stomped his foot.  “No, Mama, I want to buy Diego pull-ups!”

“These are not for you, Phillip.  They’re for me.”

“Mama, you wear pull-up diapers?”

Phillip had a hard time staying still and paying attention throughout much of the movie.  The musical numbers kept his attention, but the dialog and story line were lost on a three year old boy.  He did catch the kissing scene between Troy and Gabriela, though, as evidenced by his very loud, “YUCK!” which caught the attention of everyone around us.

As I was putting him to bed, I asked him about his favorite part of the movie.  To my surprise, he said, “The kiss.”

“Really?”  I said.  “I thought you said the kiss was yucky.”

“I liked it,” he said.

“Do you know what it means when people kiss?” I asked.

He thought for a moment, then said, “People bump their lips together.”

He has been observing our school situation (Caleb is homeschooled, and Ellie goes to public school) without much comment, so I wasn’t really sure how he was processing it until recently.  I heard him playing with his little people when he said, “You can’t go to school.  You’re not a girl!  Boys don’t go to school.”  Seems we may need to have a little clarification.

With his third birthday just around the corner, Phillip has been potty-trained for a while; however, he still needs help removing and replacing his clothes, so every trip is pretty much a two-person job.  Earlier in the week, he cocked his head at me lovingly while he was doing his business and said, “Mommy, I can’t pee without you.”  I’m not quite sure that is a good thing.

Another thing he is learning is how to pray before he goes to bed.  He’s been learning this for a while, but for the past few months he’s been stuck in a rut.  His routine prayer is to say, “Jesus, thank you for that and that and that” indiscriminately.  We’ve been working on being specific about “that,” and he is making progress.  Last week, he prayed one of the sweetest prayers I’ve ever heard.  He said, “Jesus, thank you for being my friend.  Jesus loves me, Amen.”

While I was picking out the right size for Caleb, Phillip tugged on my shirt and handed me the bottoms of a women’s swimsuit. I looked around for the other half and discovered he had pulled them off the mannequin. I struggled to hold Phillip in check while I tried to put the bottoms back on the half-naked mannequin.

This would be a good time to add that Phillip has a fascination with mannequins, particularly mannequins wearing lingerie or swimsuits. I’m not really sure why, but he will walk up them and run his hands over the material. I’m hoping it’s just a natural curiosity about the texture of the material, but I’m not sure what it is. I guess he either has a future as a fashion designer or a ladies’ man. I’m not sure which one to hope for.

Phillip, Caleb, Elizabeth and I sat at the DMV yesterday for FIVE HOURS. Yes, you heard me right. It was Monday, it was the first business day of the month, and I stupidly thought it wouldn’t take so long that I couldn’t run in with the kids and quickly get a driver’s license. After all, in Arkadelphia it only takes 20 minutes (sometimes less if there’s not a line).

I should have known better when I saw people waiting outside to get into the building. I really should have known better when I finally got into the building and saw 60 or more people crowded into one room. In that one room, they conducted all of their business, including TESTING. Yes, they give people written tests with 60 or more people in the room. That’s one way to cut down on the amount of teenagers with a driver’s license.

The children were…well, in their defense, it was hot, they were bored, and we were there for FIVE HOURS. I entertained them as best I could, but after 3 hours, Phillip and I were asked to leave. Seriously. The lady with the official Tennesee Department of Motor Vehicles shirt asked me to leave after I’d waited all afternoon. She told me Phillip was making too much noise, and that people were testing. We could come back into the room after the testing stopped at 3:30. So we stood outside and Caleb waited for my number to be called. Phillip and I and all of the smokers waited outside in the 92 degree weather for an hour and a half. Then we were allowed back into the building. It was the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever experienced as a mom.

After they finally called my number, I took the eye test, had my picture taken, and signed my name. Then the computer broke. I’m not kidding. I think I broke the camera. I waited another 30 minutes for them to fix it.

Seriously, people. If you don’t really know whether you’ve got your act together as a parent or not, wait until the DMV kicks you out for unruly behavior. It’s like official confirmation that you don’t know what you’re doing.

On a related note, one Shelby County organization that DOES know what they’re doing is the County Clerk’s office. It took me less than 30 minutes to get tags for both cars this morning. It ALMOST made up for yesterday. Not quite.