Kid logic at its finest:
One evening last week I couldn't convince a dusty-bodied Turbo that he needed a bath. We don't do baths every night in this house, but this was a night when a bath was unquestionably needed and, for whatever reason, my darling boy had no interest.
Thus began the negotiations. I got it down to the minimum requirements of feet washing and bum washing. The rest... who cares, right?
Me: "Turbo, you don't have to take a full bath, but we need to take a small bath. You don't have to sit down. It's called a sponge bath."
Turbo: "OK." [sure wish he could be this agreeable when broccoli is on the table.]
To be fair, I didn't use an actual sponge so in hindsight I can see how the following conclusion was incorrectly made.
On Sunday, when it was time for Turbo's nap, I heard Turbo coin a new term called "sponge nap."
We're in a lovely transition period around here where Turbo doesn't always take a nap. I call this transition "a taste of purgatory," as Turbo gets increasingly nutso as the day and evening wear on and it's not always tea and roses and I'm convinced I must be paying for sins of my adolescence.
I told Turbo it was nap time.
Turbo: "I don't want to take a nap. I want to play."
Me, stifling a sigh: "You don't have to sleep, but you do have to lay in your bed quietly."
Turbo: "I don't want to take a long nap. I want to take a sponge nap. And then I want to play."
It took me a minute to realize that, in Turbo math, short = sponge.
Kid logic = Kidlogical = love it!
