Luke is three and a half, and he is too smart for me already. Tonight we were eating popsicles together at the table (you know, those frozen flavored water ones in the clear plastic wrapper that you push up). I began to tease him.
"Luke, are you a little monkey?"
"Yep." Then he thought a minute. "I'm just being silly, Daddy."
"Do you like bananas?"
"And you like to climb on things?"
"Then you must be a little monkey."
"No, I'm not a monkey. I'm one of the boy children who are eating popsicles."
"Oh, OK." I chuckled and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm just being funny with you, Luke."
Luke was quiet a minute. "Daddy, it's not being funny when it's ugly." Then he cut his eyes around at me and gave me a 'Gotcha!' grin.
Umph! Right through the heart. How many times have I told him exactly that. Whoops! Well, I didn't have enough sense to leave him alone.
"Luke, are you going to eat the rest of your popsicle? I think that you might be eating my popsicle. Are you going to eat that last piece of my popsicle?"
Luke didn't say a word except to smile, turn his popsicle up in the air, suck the last of the ice out of it, and say, "Umm Ummmmm."
We both had a long and good laugh.