A few days ago, I took Emma to get some ice cream at the grocery store. She points to the stop sign and says “Mommy, what does that octagon say?”. I started laughing hysterically and asked “did you just say octagon?” And she said “yes, what does that octagon say?” I told her “stop”. Now every time she sees a stop sign she says “That octagon says stop. STOP! (holds out her hand like she is stopping traffic.)”
Emma: Mommy, I need to get beautiful. Give me some diamonds.
Emma: Mommy, sorry for kicking you when I was in your tummy. Did that hurt?