Weird, weirder, weirdest

Robert was in fine form this morning. As he was getting dressed, he kept singing, "I am Mexi-co-co-co." And then he spent the rest of the time referring himself as "Me weirdo", as in "Me weirdo needs to wake Jonny up." "Me weirdo loves weirdo mom". Weirdo mom is blessed to have such a weirdo boy.

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Robert ran into the bathroom and yelled, "Mommy, get Hannah away." Of course, I was in the shower, so I didn't quite catch what he said. I couldn't imagine our cat Hannah doing anything in anyway to provoke Robert. She's spent the last few years huddled under couches and beds, and is finally comfortable enough with him to stay in the same room, curled up in her basket. So I go see what's the matter, and the cat is sprawled out on the floor looking very comfortable. "Robert, what's the matter? Hannah's not bugging you." "What's Hannah doing? Why isn't she in her basket?" he said. "What's she doing? She's all stretched out and comfortable." I realized the child must never have seen the cat actually relaxed before.
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