Boy #2 has been an a roll today. At breakfast, I reminded him that soccer was starting this week. His eyes took on the light of excitement, he threw his arms in the air and shouted, "Booyah!" We aren't a military family, nor ones given much to that sort of expression; I have no earthly idea where he's even heard it. But there you go.
Now, apparently, someone else lives with the four of us.
After dinner, he got a small serving of icecream, because he's had trouble with finishing the food he takes. When it was gone, he asked for more, assuring The Husband and I that he would not be too full to eat more.
The Husband couldn't leave well enough alone.
"Really?" he asked the boy. "How do you know you won't be too full?"
"Because I asked the brain," explained Boy #2, exuding sincerity. "And he said I would not be too full."
"What's your brain's name?" continued The Husband.
"Mister Finker!" (We're still working on certain consonants.)
He probably would have gotten more icecream, but we were all laughing too hard by then.