A conversation over breakfast

Kellan has discovered the joy of stringing several words together in a sentence, which continues to amaze me. 

One of the cutest things I think I've heard him say lately is, "My birf-day. Coming up. Sky." How exactly he thinks his birthday is coming up in the sky, I'm not sure... I guess if something is "up" that would lead you to believe it's in the sky. I suppose that makes sense.

I've been thinking I need to write more of this stuff down. And as it turns out, we had a pretty nice conversation over breakfast this morning. So I started typing away. Here's what was said -- complete with translations.

My beckfass fanich.  

That means "my breakfast sandwich."

Me. Dest-knee. Pawty. Cuddle.  

That's in reference to the party we went to over the weekend, during which Kellan cuddled his new friend, Destenee.

Mommy's why-tin.  

I hadn't even realized he knows what writing means.

Fix my arm. Ice. Mimi, my ice out. Zachree. Bit my arm. Zachree. Bite my arm.

This is in reference to an "incident" at daycare yesterday, during which Kellan got bit on the arm for not giving up a truck to another boy. Mimi, his teacher, got some ice out of the freezer and put it on the bite mark. The best part of all is that during these "incidents", parents are never told the name of the offending child -- per daycare policy. But now Kellan is old enough to tell me himself. Ha! If I ever come across that kid in a dark alley...

My elbow. Mommy's elbow.

We had no issues with our elbows this morning. Sometimes Kellan just likes to point them out.

One, two, fee....bam, bam, bam, bam...

This is how I know Kellan's about to start singing. He usually begins with a 'one, two, three,' just like a rock and roll drummer.

Me: "Mommy needs some coffee. Mommy needs to wake up. I'm tired." 

Wake up, Mommy!

This is where the typing stopped and the caffeine loading began.