Showing posts with label Tateisms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tateisms. Show all posts

Tateisms.

05 December 2013 | 2 Comments

Tate: Dats a cow on da milk.
Me: Yep.  Milk comes from a cow.
Tate: Milk comes from the store.
Me: Milk comes from a cow first, Tate.
Tate: It comes from the grocery store with food.

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Me: You may not walk on my bed Tate.
Tate: I not walking on your bed mama. I dancing and dancing.  I got a tutu mommy and I dancing with the tutu on.

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Tate: Funny old daddy texted mommy.

michelle cell 214 018

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Tate: *carefully inspecting Dave’s face*
Dave:  Are daddy’s whiskers gone?
Tate: Uh-hum.
Dave:  Tate, where did daddy’s whisker’s go?
Tate:  They in daddy’s ears!
Dave:  What?? You’re silly, but you might have a point. Do you like when Daddy has whiskers?
Tate:  Uh-hum.  They funny.

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Tateisms.

16 October 2013 | 7 Comments

Years ago, I started keeping track of the funny things that Finn said and posted the first Finnisms.  Out of all of the things on this blog, those Finnisms are my favorite. 

And now, it’s time to start the Tateisms.   

005

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I take our neighbor boys to school every morning with Finn.  I always tell Tate, “let’s take the boys to school,” so she calls school uniforms ‘boy’ dressing. 

Tate:  I go see MY Meme.  You get dressed Finna J.

:: Then, she “punched” him in the stomach. ::

Tate:  Like a boy!

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Then, we went to visit with my grandma, who everyone calls Meme.  She’s 89, hilarious, and she and Tate are thick as thieves.

  Meme   Tate

Tate:  Meme draw a picture.

Meme:  Should I draw a picture of you?

Tate: No!

Meme:  What should I draw then?

Tate:  A punkin'.

Meme:  Ok then.  This pumpkin has a big tooth.  Uh, oh.  He's smoking a cigarette, he’s a bad pumpkin.

Tate:  Dat tooth is scary.

Meme:  Ok, I'll draw you a nice pumpkin.

Tate:  Draw a Finna J punkin’.

Meme:  This one has a smile, but no teeth.  He’s only allowed to eat cereal.  Ok it's your turn to draw a pumpkin.

Tate:  It's Memes turn.  Can you draw a punkin’?

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We currently have a baby gate up to keep Tate contained because the doors in our house are being stripped including the one to the linen closet.  She’s like a moth to a flame for all of the things she shouldn’t be into… like my make up.  So now, she’s leaving the linen closet alone and she’s obsessed with the gate.

Tate:  You will be trapped everybody.

Me:  Tate, don’t touch that gate.

Tate:  Ah – ha – haaaa.  You will be awesome trapped.

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Me:  Hey, Tate do you want to watch Jake?

Tate:  And the Neverland Pirates and me?  Dat’s WOND-a-ful.

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