[Our neighbor has about nine pygmy goats. Goats who get out and into our yard at least once a day. They are harmless and runaway if the girls so much as look in their direction.]
Hazel: No, goats! Stop eating mine grass! That ours!
[I hear this all the time. From both girls, but Hazel started it. They want to know the title of every single song they hear, which is great because they can tell me when they want to hear a certain song, but exhausting when they ask it three times in a row for the same song.]
Hazel: What that song is?
Haley: Calm down, dear. Tell what’s happened?
Haley: Daddy, you funny?
Ken: Yes, I’m funny.
Haley: Haha. You think so.
Hazel: Go ‘side right now! One, two, three… [Give you one guess who she’s imitating here.]
Hazel: I can’t find my head, sissy.
Haley: Don’t worry, I find your head! Here’s your head.
Hazel: [whenever Ken coughs] Easy, Daddy, easy. I got you.
Hazel: Follow me, Daddy.
Ken: Where are we going?
Hazel: Um, I don’t know.
Me: Hazel, say ‘don’t ask silly questions, daddy’.
Hazel: [haltingly] Don’t ask silly questions, Daddy. [with authority] Now, come on!