A Braysay about… hatred for a shirt

The other day before school started, I was “helping” Braylon get ready & picked out a shirt for him, after he’d refused 3 others. In the corner of his closet, I found this great short-sleeved, never before worn. Well, he had no less than a full-fledged fit when I made him wear it.

After Ricky came back from their morning drive to school, he said Bray was silent & sulky for a few minutes and then saw a sign that read, “fire”.  Reading it out loud he said, “F, I, R, E…

then chanted,

F, I, R, E. That’s whud-I-want this shirt to be.

F, I, R, E. That’s whud-I-want this shirt to be!!

Ashes.”

 

A Bray Say…about an Indian Princess

The other day, I was driving with Braylon & Angel & my mom in the back seat, and we were helping Bray come up with the names of all the Disney Princesses. He thought of every one of them, but I added one more to the list, hinting to see if he could figure out her name.

She’s not blonde, she’s got long black hair…& she’s an Indian…  (silence)

pocahontas

Po… (silence)

Poca…

POCA…saurus?

Well, close! Then I tried to remember the American’s name (who she was in love with) and the closest I got to John Smith, was Will Smith. So we just drove around laughin’ about our imaginary Disney couple, Pocasaurus and Will Smith (Still waitin’ on Ricky to come up with some kind of graphic to illustrate this one!). Guess we need to brush up on our history!

A Bray Say…about blue stuff on his ant bites

So he went to the school nurse, Nurse Marvel for ant-bite relief (dang fire ants- they’re the only thing besides Satan we’re allowed to “hate” and call “stupid” in our house)…she ran out of anti-itch cream and he tells me she put “blue stuff” all over it (which I found out later, is actually called “Ocean Potion”). I go, “What kind of blue stuff?” And he attempts to describe it:

“Well, it was gooey, and messy and blue, but it was like a blob… like…BOB…upset for no eye.”

bob

A Bray-Say…

As we were eating our McD’s ice cream cones in the parked Scion, trying to figure out where to go next, Bray unbelts & takes a deep breath, 

“I know!  A PIGNA!”

I knew exactly what he meant but just smiled and said, “What?”

“I mean… a PIGNIT!”

This time he knew he was saying it right. He wanted to get out, sit on the grassy patch in front of us, and eat our ice cream cones by a tree in the sun. a.k.a: a picnic.

There are just some words that are too damn cute that even after 6 & a half years, you can’t bring yourself to correct.

cone