I promise I don't make this stuff up

The Triumvirate* has decreed that the time has come for another batch of Gabie-isms. Most of these are from our recent trip. The pudding one came from a couple of weeks ago, but I saved it because it made me laugh. You know, without a blog, I would be jotting these things down on scraps of paper and losing them, so blogs are a good thing to have around. Gabies are good to have around too. But you’ll have to get your own because I’m keeping mine.

*Ethan Caesar, McKayus Crassus, and Gabie the Great

Gabie on the true meaning of President’s Day:
“If we’re gone on present’s day will we still get the presents?”

Gabie the mathematician:
Here’s a new number I invented: Ten-ty. It’s another word for a hundred. Ten-ty is a little more than ninety.

Gourmet Gabie
Gabie: I’m going to make your sandwich today Mom. I have a new recipe – and you’re really going to like it – it's called a peanut butter, honey, bologna, tuna sandwich.
Mom: Uh, sounds great Gabie, but I think I’m already making my own sandwich, so I’ll pass.
Gabie: But Mom it’s not a pain to make at all. And it’s my yummiest sandwich ever. You might even get addicted to it. That means you want it all the time.
Mom: (thinking there’s little chance of developing a peanut butter, honey, bologna, tuna addiction, but you never can be too careful) No thanks Gabie.
Gabie (persistent as ever): If you like it you can make it on your own. But you might need a little bit of help, so I’ll help you with it. I’m the only one who knows how much to put in it. And which side to put the peanut butter on. It has to go on a certain side.
Mom (half annoyed, half amused): Listen Gabriel, I don’t think I would like those ingredients together. Thanks for offering, but I really truly do not want a peanut butter, honey, bologna, tuna sandwich
Gabie: But how do you KNOW you won’t like it if you’ve never tried it?!?
[Help! He’s using my own logic against me. It’s hopeless. Do I give in like a coward and let him make the darn sandwich, take a few nibbles off the edges while he glows with pride and then dispose of the rest when he trots off to watch Sesame Street? You betcha.]

10 minutes into the drive to Arizona, from the back of the van:
"Vacations are just like being home, only better."
[Sometimes I think Gabie is a walking t-shirt slogan.]

After getting a few cactus pricklies in his ankle:
“Mom, this injury is pretty serious. I think I’m going to need a cast and a handicapped parking pass.”

At the Body Worlds exhibit (where real human bodies are on display for anatomical study):
Mom (pointing to another body and wondering if this was a good place to bring a 5 year old, even if he is rather precocious and really fascinated with the human body and wants to be a doctor someday): So what do you think of this one Gabie?
Gabie: I think that man was very unlucky.
Mom: Why was he unlucky?
Gabie: Because he’s dead.

Later at the same exhibit:
“They’d better hurry up and finish with this man’s body so they can put it back in his grave where it belongs.”

And the one I saved because I just should have seen it coming but I didn’t and it totally made me snort:
Gabie: Hey, lets all have some pudding.
Mom: Sorry buddy. We can’t have pudding right now, it’s lunchtime.
Gabie: But I want some pudding. We could each have a different flavor.
Mom: No Gabie. It’s lunchtime.
Gabie: Oh, alright. [pause…] Then can I choose what we have for lunch?
Mom: Sure. What should we have for lunch?
Gabie: Pudding.