Lately, the answer to every numbers-related question addressed to Max has been "Twenty-five". I don't know where it came from, but it's stuck around for at least a week.
Max, how tall are you? "Twenty-Five"
What time is it? "Twenty-Five"
How far to the park? "Twenty-Five"
The other day, he told me that his Macky Bear stuffed animal wanted a sip of beer. (Yeah, that's our family...) Paul asked, "How old is Macky bear? Because he can only have a sip of beer if he is old enough." Of course, Macky bear was twenty-five.
Eventually, I decided to throw him a softball, so I asked him, "Max, how old am I?"
His answer: "... Please?"
I guess the only thing predictable about our son is his unpredictability!
1 comment:
This made me laugh! He is learning early you never, under any circumstances, guess a woman's age. :)
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