Walking to the hospital with Grandma and Daddy to meet Baby Brother. "It's driving me crazy! How did the baby get out?"
When Fiona received her gift of nail polish and lip balm from Baby Brother: "Before, I was a little girl. Now I am a lady."
After peeing in the potty, taking a sheet of toilet paper and flapping it up and down: "Fly! Fly to my bobbum (bottom)!"
Looking at a photo of herself from last summer in which she's wearing a swim diaper and standing in our kiddie pool: "My bobbum (bottom) is getting bigger and bigger and bigger!"
Fiona's been in the habit of scolding us when she's mad, saying, "DON'T. DO. THAT. ANY. MORE." This phrase recently has been replaced by an accusing finger point while she yells, "I JUST TOLD YOU!" Sometimes, oddly, she changes it for me to "DADDY JUST TOLD YOU!" I calmly respond, "Daddy told me what?" It doesn't make any sense and she seems to kind of know it doesn't make sense but she says it anyway. Depending on our mood, this reprimand either comes off as bratty or hilarious. Being 3 must be hard, because being the parent of a 3 year old definitely is hard. Funny, but hard.