Heeere, Piggy Piggy Piggy.

After I scrape my short hair into a ponytail of sorts...
me: Do I have a little bobble on the back of my head?
Older Son: Yes. It's a piggytail. (pause) I like pigs.
me: (laughter)
Older Son: Oh! I wasn't calling you a piggy! I just like pigs!

But I Thought You Loved Your Brother...

Older Son: Five children is a lot to look after, isn't it mummy? I think five children would be too many.
me: Mm. What do you think would be the best number then?
Older Son (after a moment's consideration, and happily): Two!
Younger Son (loudly and abruptly): One.

Pretty Sure He Is, Yep.

Younger Son (after Older Son runs shrieking to the toilet): Is he really your child?

Ah, But It Could Have Been Worse.

Older Son (after nearly choking on his dinner, and then nearly throwing up the rest. In a calm voice.): Oh! Oh. That was terrible.

Case Closed.

me: Did you just fart at me?
Younger Son (slowly picking up a toy): "I just did a fart," says Mister Badger. "It was not the giant, it was me."

How Rude.

Younger Son (chanting): My name is little daddy and I got a big fat bum!
Older Son (from the other room, matter of fact tone): Yeah, daddy has got a big fat bum. Definitely.

Oh Does It!

Younger Son (after refusing to tidy up all afternoon): Mummy, when you say things to me it makes me tired. Really tired.

Take It Away!

Younger Son (attempting to elicit a reaction from me, singing): Old McMummy had a bum, and she... had... a bum!
Older Son (whispering to Younger Son): Nooo don't always blame it on her. (pause) Blame it on daddy.
Younger Son (with renewed vigour): Old McDaddy had a bum...!

Taking It To The Next Level.

Older Son (singing along to Message in a Bottle): I'm sending out an SOS, I'm sending out an SOS. (pause) My SOS is in the street, my SOS is in the street.

Um...

Older Son (playing a game): We're going to the cinema. To watch Yogi Bear!
Younger Son: What will the girls watch?
Older Son: Oh, girly things. Like Dexter...

Really Depends On How You Measure Them.

Younger Son (to grandmother at the table): Granny, can I have a drink please?
Granny: Yes, in a minute. 
Time passes… 
Younger Son: Granny? How many hours are there in a minute?

Well Nobody Likes That.

When asked why he felt it necessary to wake his brother early this morning...
Older Son: I wanted to go downstairs but if (Younger Son) woke up after me and came down and made a noise around the corner I would get a shock. (pause) And I do not like to get a shock.

Oops.

Older Son: Does ‘mess’ start with an ‘s’?
me: No, an ‘m’.
Older Son (laughing): Does ‘tidy’ start with a ‘y’?
me (slightly suspicious): No, a ‘t’.
Older Son (in his cheekiest tone): Does ‘biscuit’ start with a ‘nic’?
me: No.
Older Son: Does ‘lorry’ start with an ‘r’?
me (exasperated): Yes.
Older Son (in completely serious tone): See, sometimes I get it right -first time-.

Ah, l'amour.

Older Son: I’m going to marry L(a girl in his class). 
Me: Have you spoken to her about this? 
Older Son: No. 
Me: Are you going to? 
Older Son (bemused tone): No.

Interesting Choice of Spouse.

Younger Son (during conversation in which Older Son states he will marry a female classmate when he grows up): When I am big I can have a wife, and that wife will be… Daddy.

Oh, I Do Beg Your Pardon Sir.

Me (upon seeing that Younger Son isn’t dressed yet): You’re all naked! 
Younger Son: I know. (pause, then running away) I’M NOT NAKED I’VE GOT MY SOCKS ON!!

Such A Friendship Could Never Last...

During a conversation about Dr Seuss's Green Eggs and Ham...
Older Son: You should only eat green eggs and ham at the table, shouldn't you Mummy?
me: Mm.
Older Son: You should not eat them in a box, you should not eat them with a fox. You should not eat them in a house, you should not eat them with a mouse.
Younger Son (interrupting): Yes, yes, in a house! At the table!
Older Son: Oh, yes.
me: With a mouse?
Older Son: No.
Younger Son: Jinx (our cat) would like them with a mouse.
(pause as we all consider)
Older Son: Yes. Jinx would eat the green eggs and ham. And then the mouse.

Too Little, Too Late?

During a game in which Older Son is 'eaten'...
Younger Son (having vanquished the monster): ... and if you ever get eaten again, call me. Ok?

Can't Argue With That Logic.

Me: Are you feeling better today? 
Younger Son: Yes, feel me!

Pennies, Perhaps? Or A Marble?

Older Son: Mummy? Can you one day take a picture of your ear, and make a website? Www what's up my ear .com?

A Herrible Hoff-... A Horrible Heff-... Heffalump!

Younger Son: Granny’s going to get us a heffalump! 
Older Son (concerned): Is she?

The Horror!

After a trip to ‘Dinosaur World’, Older Son gets out of bed during the night…

Older Son: Mummy I can’t stop thinking about the dinosaurs coming to eat me.
me: (explanation of dinosaur extinction)
Older Son: Yes I know, but they keep coming in my head.
me: Oh. Well, when they come in your head you just look hard at them and poof them into fluffy pink rabbits, ok? And then watch the looks on their faces.
Older Son (giggling): Ok.

15 minutes later…

Older Son (from the top of the stairs, in an even more frightened voice): Mummy… I did what you said but they turned into half bunny, half dinosaurs.

Macho Macho Man.

Talking manly accessories as opposed to girly ones. 
Older Son: I would like a very smart ring, with a man on it. With a suit on. And an awesome hat. (pause to consider) And a horse.

Wonderland, Here I Come.

Older Son: Daddy wouldn't even fit in a rabbit hole. 
Me: Why's that then?
Older Son: Because he's big and fat and round!
Me: (smothered laughter) Oh, I see. 
Older Son: You are thin and not fat and tall, mummy. You would fit in a rabbit hole. So would I.

I Always Wondered What People Did In Offices.

Younger Son (playing at ‘work’ in the other room, into a wooden block serving as a mobile phone): HELLO? HELLO! I’M JUST AT WORK. DESKING. BYE!

The Blind Leading The Blind.

Older Son (to younger son, in a smug, knowing tone): Do you know how to spell ‘peace’? 
Younger Son (blissfully ignorant): No. 
Older Son (sounding out the letters): It’s pee… sss.

That Settles That, Then.

Older Son: Granny’s not a sewing lady, is she?
Me: No, not generally.
Older Son (in a decisive tone): She’s not a lady at ALL, mummy.

[facepalm]

Both sons together: Mummy, what’s ‘allergic’? 
Me: [lengthy explanation] 
Younger Son: (Older Son) is allergic to pink, mummy.

Definitions.

Older son: What’s an enemy, Mummy?

Me: Hmm. Well, it’s sort of somebody you don’t like and who doesn’t like you.

Older son: Oh.

Younger Son (in an authoritative tone): NO, an enemy is a sort of purple thing.