Overheard between 10:22 and 10:29 this morning in my home:
"Can I have a snack?"
"Where are we going today?"
"He's touching me. He's touching me. HE'S TOUCHING ME."
"Mom, listen to this noise I invented."
"What's for dinner?"
"How did Earth get invented?"
"Can I have a snack?"
"Is it my turn on the computer?"
"Is it my turn to be player 1?"
"Can I have a snack?"
"Is it lunchtime yet?"
"Can I have that thing my brother loves?"
"Mom, look."
"Mom, watch this!"
"Mom, LOOOOOOOOK! MOOOOOMMMMM!"
"Mom? WHERE ARE YOU?"
"What are you doing in there?"
"Can I have a snack?"
"Where is that teeny-tiny Lego piece that goes to nothing and I haven't used for a year, but NEED RIGHT NOW?"
"What's for dinner?"
"Can I play outside?"
"Can I come in now?"
"Can I have a snack?"
"Is it my turn to use whatever my brother just starting using?"
"What are you doing?"
"What's for dinner?"
"Is it maybe pizza?"
"How come?"
"When can we get pizza?"
"Why do I need a shower? I just took one the other day."
"Mom, the toilet won't flush."
"Can I have a snack?"
"When does school start?"
Not soon enough, child. Not. Soon. Enough.
