I'm rubber, you're glue...

The kids had a successful appointment at the dentist the other day, and here's my favorite conversation that took place while getting their cute little teeth cleaned:
Dentist: Sofia, you have pretty blue eyes. Where did you get them from?
Sofia (without hesitation): From my cousin Elizabeth!
haha! Too cute!
And, here's another conversation from one morning this week:
Gabe: Sofia, you're stupid!
Me: Gaaabbbe, we don't call names in this house.
Gabe: Can I call names at school then?
Me (trying not to laugh): No. We shouldn't call people names wherever we are.
Gabe: Well, Jean calls me a moron at school.
Me: (and I must've pulled this out of the deep recesses of my memory): Well, you know what you can do. You can say, "I'm rubber, you're glue; whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you!"
Gabe and Sofia start cracking up.
Gabe: Say it again Mom. Say it again.
And we repeat it together until he has it down pat. He must've been pondering the meaning because next thing I know, he's asking: "But, Mom, what if he says something nice?"
Me (laughing): That's a good point Gabe. Maybe you should try this instead if someone says something mean to you: "Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me."
Gabe: That one's not funny.
Me: You're right: it's not. But then again, it's not funny when people are mean to us, is it? If you don't want people to be mean to you, you can't be mean to them. No name calling, okay?
Gabe: Ohhhhkkaaayyy.
Mission accomplished. For about 20 seconds anyway.

Meanwhile Sofia wanted to model her summer dress that she had picked out to wear.
Sofia: Mom, this dress is pretty.
Me: It sure is. You need a sweater to go with it, and you'll be all set.
Sofia: You know how it would be even prettier?
Me: How?
Sofia: If it were like this --(and she pulled it back tight, so that it was body-fitting)
Me: Oh Sofia, what are you going to be like as a teenager?
Sofia: I will still like my dresses tight, Mom.
Me (laughing): Great.

Here's one last conversation I'll share:
Sofia (while Gabe was at teeball): Mom, umm, one day this week, Gabe dropped your hairspray in the toilet.
Me: Ewww. Really? Yuck. When?
Sofia: Ummm, I don't know. The other day.
Me (trying hard to remember if I have used hair spray this week at all): Okay. Well, who dug it out of the toilet?
Sofia: Gabe didn't want to, so I did it for him.
Me: Oh, honey, that was nice of you. Did you wash your hands?
Sofia: Yes, Mom. Dad made me.
Me (breathing sigh of relief, but still thinking the hairspray will need to get thrown out): Oh, thank goodness!

Here's a link to Gabe's first "opera" from school this week. The quality isn't great; we were way in the back, but you get the idea. Gabe's in the first row with his teddy bear hanging around his waist.