Roc-isms, Part VIII

“Mommy, you look so beautiful in your yellow shirt…now can I have more stories because I was so nice to you?  I cumplamented you!”


“Yes, complianteded you!  Now start reading!”


“Mommy!  I can’t find my ball!”

“It’s huge Roc, look around, I’m sure you can find it.”

“But Mooooommmy, don’t you know?  I’m a man, and mans don’t find stuff!”

“You are right that men have a hard time finding things.”


“Mommy I like your dress.  Are you a princess?  You are as beautiful as a dog Mommy.”


We were visiting my girlfriend and her new little family.  She struck up a conversation.

“Roc, how old are you?”

“I’m seven.”

“When will you be eight?”

“After seven.”


I couldn’t find black beans in the pantry.  I was muttering to myself about how I knew I had bought them the last time I was at the store.  Then I found them and made some sort of verbal exclamation upon finding them.

“So you were a little bit of a man too Mommy.  You couldn’t find the black beans and they were right there on the shelf.”

I giggled.

“Why are you laughing?  Was that funny?”



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