errands with zach...

 

Zach went to town with me on Monday afternoon to run some errands. I love spending time with Zach – he cracks me up. We were gone less than an hour, and I think I spent at least half of that time laughing.

When we got home, I hurried in to write down some of the funny things he said. Here are some bits of our conversations from our errand trip. (Just to clarify – Zach’s words are in green, mine are in orange. :o) )

...

As we were pulling out of the garage:

When can we get one of those little cars without a top?

Why would we want one of those?

They are real, Mom. Don’t you know what I’m talking about?

Yes, I know they are real. But why would we want one?

Because then when you’re hot, you can get cooled off by the wind. You don’t have to have an “in-ditioner.”

But we couldn’t all fit in at the same time.

I know, but we are good at taking turns.

…

We stopped at the UPS store and a police truck drove by with its lights and sirens on.

Where do you think that police truck is going?

I don’t know – maybe to an accident or to help someone.

Or maybe they are going for coffee.

Coffee?

Yes. policemen drink coffee.

You think all policemen drink coffee?

Yes. They have to. Coffee and Beer.

Um, what?

Well, they do on The Simpsons.

I guess we better not let you watch the Simpsons anymore…it’s teaching you bad stuff. (NOTE: He does not watch The Simpsons regularly…just randomly – but obviously still too much)

Why mom? It doesn't teach me bad stuff. It’s okay. I like beer too. Not coffee – it’s bad for you, but I like beer.

Um, no…you don’t. You don’t like beer. You’ve never tasted beer. And it’s worse for you than coffee.

Yes I have. You let me have it sometimes.

No, Zach, I do not let you have beer.

Yes you do Mom – and sometimes we have it with ice cream in it.

Root beer?

Yeah, it’s the same thing, Mom. Beer and Root beer. It’s both beer.

…

At the McDonalds drive-thru:

(ordering) I’d like one large diet coke with light ice and one small fry.

from the back seat: MOM! I don’t want only one small fry. Please, can’t I have more than ONE SMALL FRY??? I can eat more than ONE SMALL FRY.

…

On the way home:

I love you Zach.

I know Mom. You tell us too much.

You can never tell someone you love them too many times – as long as you mean it.

Yeah, Mom. You can say it too much. You do it every day. Too too much.

Well, don’t ever forget it, okay?

How could I Mom? You always tell me.