On the qualities of a perfect wife:
Miles: I am going to pick the most talented wife ever.
Me: Talented at what?
Miles: So no one peels off their thumb.
Me: Are you saying Daddy should not have married me because I can’t work the carrot peeler?
Miles: No. I just want a smart wife.
Me: Hey, I’m smart! I just cannot work the carrot peeler.
Miles: I love you anyway, Mom.
On being asked to put away a new stack of his laundry every time he walked into the room:
Miles: Ugh! I feel like a teenager who is unhappy! Teenagers hate chores! (stomp, stomp, stomp)
Me: Teenagers have to do their own laundry!
Miles, opening door to grandparents: Hi! Come on in! The house is messy because my mom is pretty slow at cleaning.
Chatting happily in the back seat with Papa, an industrial contractor, about concrete pumpers (A Concrete Boom Truck! I saw it on my DVD! It has a song!) and the various challenges of working with concrete for 20 minutes.