The Song Of My People

Daughter trying to tickle my feet Me: Don't tickle my feet Daughter: It wasn't me it was my baby Me: Please don't tickle my feet, it hurts Daughter: I thought grannies liked to have their feet tickled? Me: Wait what? I'm not an old lady Daughter: Yes you are. You're an old lady ma.

Daughter with her finger up her nose: Don't worry Ma, I'm going to pick this out and put it back in it's home. Me: Put what back in it's home Daughter: My booger. It's home is in my mouth. Me: Ew, don't do that. Daughter: But I like my boogers, they taste good

Daughter: “Ma, you made me french.” Me: “Wait what?” Daughter: “Your voice made me french.” Me: “Oh yeah?” Daughter: “Yeah, it scared me and made me french.” Me: “Oh! You mean flinch.”

Son: I believe in Jesus and God, but I don't believe in Hell. Me: Why? Son: Because Jesus is good and Hell is bad. Good point, kid.

Son  - You look scary Daughter - Im not scared of Annabelle Son - Shes not scary. YOU creep me out Daughter - Do I even look scary? Son- Yeah. Your boobies are scary Daughter - I only have baby boobies