I've been trying to teach Pea the answers to the two big questions all passers-by ask her: "What's your name?" and "How old are you?" We're doing really well with the age thing ("Doo!!!" accompanied by a very funky hand gesture, making an "O" with her thumb and middle finger and curling the other fingers up and out), but, thanks to big brother, we're having some difficulties with her name.
Me: What's your name?
Punk: PUNK!!!!
Pea: DUNK!!!!
They laugh. I used to too, but it's gotten a little old. Alas, repetition is the essence of toddlerhood...
Me: No, that's your brother's name. You're Pea. What's your name?
Punk: PUNK!!!
Pea: DUNK!!!!!
Me: No, your name is Pea. How old are you, Sweetpea?
Pea: DOO!!!!
We all cheer and clap and laugh and carry on in general celebration of a correct answer.
Me: Sweetpea--what's your name?
Pea: DUUUNNNKKKK!!!
Sigh. We'll try again another day.

Aaron: Get your hand out of your pants, Punk.
Punk, who is wearing a shirt and undies: I'm just putting my hand in this pocket here.
(If you haven't started laughing yet, visalize little boy panties....)
He demonstrated and the corrective nature of the moment was entirely lost in the ensuing hilarity.

Pea loves shoes. She asks to wear them all the time and complains when we take them off for bed. I ordered her a new pair from Ebay and they arrived Friday. I showed her the box and asked, "What's inside?" She just looked at me blankly. I took off the lid and they were covered in paper. More blank looks. Then I peeled back the paper. "CHOOS!!!!" she yelled and did a little dance. Then she couldn't get the shoes she had on fast enough and had to wear the new ones.

Punk was playing with Pea's My Little Ponies this afternoon and kept turning them over and saying something. I didn't want to ruin the moment, but I was VERY curious about what he was saying. I turned down the tv volume and leaned closer to hear him saying, "Nope, she doesn't have a penis. ... Nope, she doesn't have a penis. ..." So much for the birds and the bees. It's the horses and the Ponies for Punk.

I bought myself some Dove chocolates and was eating them one night after the kids went to bed. Despite my mental notes, I forgot to dispose of the evidence. The next morning :Punk climbed into bed with us and asked, "What are those shiny blue things?"
Me: Uuurgh. Huuuugh. Huh?
Punk: What was in those shiny blue wrappers on the table in there?
Me: Oh. Dirt.
Punk: Oh.
And he trolloped off, completely appeased. Until a few hours later...
Punk: Mom?... MOM?!... Can I have some dirt?

They sure do keep us laughing!