Thursday, January 18, 2007

Mistake and Potatoes


Me: Hey, what should we make Daddy for dinner tonight? I want to cook something special for him now that he's back from his business trip.

My 2-year-old Pigtails: I wan' cook Daddy a mistake and 'tatoes, k?

Me: Sure. I'll make the gravy to drown Daddy's mistake in.

Pigtails: Okay. Daddy WUVS my mistakes! I can hep' you make mistake for Daddy, right, mommy?

Me: Of course, big girl. I'm the best at making mistakes but I could always use a partner in crime.

There you have it. Another successful dinner brainstorming session in the can at the casa di Slackstress.

Mistakes, no longer just opportunities for learning (and reasons to kick yourself).

Mistake. It's what's for dinner.

*As FlipFlop Mama pointed out in her comment, this is my first cutesy wootsy poopsy post. You know, the ones where the blogging mommy proudly heralds her baby waby's cutesy comments. I guess it was a matter of time before I'd join the cuteness ranks. It was bound to happen. Maybe tomorrow I'll be more edgy. Way cooler. We'll see. It really depends on what my cuties do in the next 24 hours, doesn't it? Swoon, swoon. Gag, gag. Gag me with a baby spoon.


At 3:02 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh my that is toooo stinkin' cute!!!

At 3:41 PM, Blogger Mommy off the Record said...

I love cute baby comment posts. Bring em on!

"mistake and 'tatoes" it :)

p.s. i think it's awesome that you gave birth at home without meds to your two kids!

At 6:45 PM, Blogger you da mom! said...

i like your cutesy wootsy poopsy post!

At 9:03 AM, Blogger liv said...

listen, missy: just don't slide down the slippery slope into domestic perfectitude. keep on slackin'----it makes me feel a little like a piece of my soul is in California.

but, your wittle bitty lamby wamby baby girl sure is a cutey pooty! let her eat mistake!

At 2:30 PM, Blogger mad muthas said...

maybe we could declare a short amnesty on cuteness and just unload all the funny little things our kids have said. we'd be so busy telling our own, we'd have no time to listen to anyone else's (oh hang on, that's what happens anyway), but we could all go home satisfied. whadya say?


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