This morning my child is insisting on being called Jabba the Hut. One of the most humbling experiences is seeing your child do something objectively odd and recognizing in it something of your own (or your partner's) off-ness.
The toddler laid four plastic insects in a row. "Dis Da-ny," they said, pointing to the grasshopper. "Dis Ee-ya," indicating that the cricket stood for their baby sibling. "And dis Mama and Bama." Pointing to the cockroaches. I fear for the teenage years.
Last night while I was making dinner the toddler came in to the kitchen, naked but for a bike helmet. "This for eatin', Mama?" they asked, pulling something small, wet, and brown from their mouth. "No," I replied. "That is rabbit poop."