Scene: the dinner table mid-dinner somewhere between threat and punishment number 11 all geared toward Samuel (4 years old).
Me: Sam! Sit UP, son. Have manners or leave my table.
Sam: (in a super sweet voice, just quiet enough to blend in with the other three conversations happening at my table) you are stupid.
Me: (eyes narrow, teeth clench, spanking hand revs up!)WHAT did you just say to me?
Sam: (in an even sweeter OH-how-I-love-you-voice)You are pretty. (followed by the smile of innocent)
Me: I do NOT think you just said that. I THINK you said a bad word, and if you do NOT stop talking like that you WILL find a bar of soap in your mouth.
Sam: (suddenly sober and straight faced) OK. sorry.
My husband: (crawls into his shirt so he can laugh hysterically for the entire conversation.)
Me: (heavy sighs directed at both of them.)