Ellen (who lives for anything with sugar in it): I want some medicine.Me: You don't need medicine. You're perfectly well.
Ellen: Yeah I do! I hurt, because I need medicine.
Me, to Ellen, every morning: Would you like some breakfast?
Ellen, every morning: No. I want some candy.
Me: You smell like maple syrup. Your face looks sticky. Were you drinking syrup?
Ellen: Yeah. In a cup I was!
Adam, saying our family prayer: And please bless Sister Lindsey, that she will . . . survive. (Before the prayer, Peter said, "Don't forget to pray for Sister Lindsey. She just had surgery, and it was pretty serious.")
Adam: Could you wash my hands?
Me: OK. Are you sure you don't want any more food?
Adam: I don't want any more. I'm full.
Ellen: Yeah you do! You have to have some more lunch!
Adam: No! I don't! And I know, because it's my body. And I have my body glued to me.
Me: Wow. What kind of glue did you use?
Adam: HEAVENLY FATHER glued my body to me.
Adam: Mom, can you read these poems to me?
Adam: 'Cause, I just wrote random letters, so, I'm not really sure what it says.
Adam, to Peter: Well, I just think it's kind of weird that Mother's Day is always on Sunday, 'cause, ya know, not all mothers are born on Sunday.