Archive for the ‘Wesley’ Category


I was getting dinner ready tonight, cutting up a head of cauliflower, when Wesley came in. He eyed the cauliflower suspiciously and announced, “I’m not eating that.”

“Aside from your tasting bite, you mean?” I asked.

He folded his arms and said, “I don’t like it.”

I said, “You’ve never tried it. Maybe you’ll think it’s delicious.”

He looked at the cauliflower and said darkly, “I have my doubts, missy.”




So, Mary is sick and Wesley was exhausted, so the kids went to bed at 6:30. After I put them to bed, I came downstairs and started making dinner for the adults (braised leeks from Smitten Kitchen).

I was busily braising my leeks–which smell more or less like heaven must smell–and I heard Wesley coming down the stairs. He trotted into the kitchen, fixed me with an accusatory look, and said, “Are you COOKING while I’m in bed?”

I said, “Yes, I am. Are you hungry?”

He said, “No, but I still might WANT some of that.” ┬áHe stood up on tiptoe to try to see what it was, and then said, “You’re not supposed to cook unless I am here to eat it.” And then he turned around and stalked back upstairs to his bed.

he needs the truth.

Conversation between Mary and Wesley this evening…

Wesley: Did you know sometimes people say there’s a bunny about Easter?

Mary: The Easter Bunny?

Wesley: Yeah!

Mary: Yes. But he is pretend.

Wesley: I know. I KNOW! But he is still for Easter.

Mary: Yes, he is.

Wesley: He is not real though. Easter baskets are from Mama and Daddy.

Mary: Yes, like the quarter from the tooth fairy.*

Wesley: The tooth fairy is only for you, though.

Mary: Uh-uh! Everyone gets the tooth fairy. Except that’s really Mama and Daddy too. It’s pretend.

Wesley: Why would the tooth fairy come to me? I have all my teeth.

Mary: Someday they’ll fall out.

Wesley: [gasps, covers mouth]

Mary: But then they’ll grow back.

Wesley: WHAT!?! You have GOT to be kidding me.

Mary: I knew you’d want to know the truth.

* Yes, a quarter. I’m a cheap bastard–what can I say?

Bonus–a buddy pic from this weekend:


Wesley: I played enough Star Wars–I’m going inside now.

Mary: What! We’re not done!

Wesley: I’m cold.

Mary: Fine. You go ahead. I’ll just stay here and support the Rebels ALL BY MYSELF.

Wesley: Okay. I think I will drink some milk while you support the Rebels. [goes inside]

protesting too much

I just went upstairs to see what Wesley was doing that was making a thumping noise.

When I opened the door, he was standing at the end of the crib with a plastic bird in one hand and a spoon in the other. He said urgently, “Mama, I didn’t!”


Earlier tonight, I gave Wesley a bath and then he wrapped up in a hooded towel that is supposed to make the kid look like a butterfly.

Wesley: Quack!

Me: Are you a butterfly quacking?

Wesley: No, I’m a duck! A duck wrapped in a towel.

Me: Oh, I see.

Wesley: Quack, quack. Look at my butterfly towel. Quack, quack, quack. I want some bacon. Quack, quack, quack.

Mary: Why would a duck want bacon?

Wesley: Because he’s really me in a butterfly towel. Quack, quack.

The more articulate he gets, the weirder I realize he is.

car conversation

On the way to dance class, Mary picked up her lunch box and started snapping it open and closed toward Wesley, like a mouth. It swiftly degenerated into this…

Mary: Chomp!
Wesley [who was wearing bulldozer pajamas]: Eat my digger pants!
Mary: Chomp, chomp! Mmmm. Delicious!
Wesley: Have some brocky! [I thought this was a mispronunciation of “broccoli” but actually it was a made-up word.]
Mary: I don’t like brocky, I like people! Let me eat you! Chomp, chomp.
Wesley: Okay, but just a little. [Holds out foot.]
Mary: Okay, I had a little and I’m done.
Wesley: I’ll put the rest of me in the refrigerator for later.

Me: You know it’s not safe to go in the refrigerator, right?
Wesley: We’re just joking! I wouldn’t really let a monster eat my digger pants.