Lyle, sitting at the desk in our freezing-cold sun room: "I'm going to write you a note, Mommy!"
Me (making lunch): "Mmmmhmmm..."
Lyle: "It's a really special note for you!"
Me (starting to pay attention): "Oh, thanks, Lyle! What does it say?"
Lyle (deliberately pointing word by word to each scribbled line):
"It says, 'My. Butt. Is. Cold!'"
Lyle appears in the kitchen in his dress-up chef hat, which is falling over his eyes.
Me: "Wow, Lyle, you look like a chef!"
Lyle: "Yeah, I'm going to be a baker when I grow up! With Baxter!"
Me: "Mmm, what will you make? Cakes and...?"
Me: "Oh, yum! I love pies. Anything else?"
Lyle: "Yes! Frozen hot dogs!"