As weird as...eating fresh pumpkins

Today my oldest bambino dulce, Buddy, and I had a little conversation that still has me confused and bemused at the same time. Buddy, age 8, asked if he could go to the gym with me. He wanted to practice basketball before his afternoon game. When I finished my workout and went to sign him out of the childcare, err I mean "play place" our conversation started.

Me: Yo, dude you ready to jam?
Dulce son (looking at me as if he has no idea who I am): Huh?
Me: Hey bud let's rock and roll. We've got to hit Target and get a ball before your game at 2.
Dulce son: Mom?
Me: Ah, yeah.
Dulce son: You are acting wierd.
Me: Weird? *raising one eyebrow and talking out the side of my mouth* Who me?
Dulce son: You are being so weird! *shaking his head and looking down*
Me: Well, who do you think you inherited it from?

Dulce son: I'm not wierd!


Buster (dulce son #2) is wierd.


Dad is wierd...


and now YOU ARE WIERD!


But, I'm not wierd.


Me: Ah, babe, our whole family is wierd


except for the Baci-galoop (dulce son #3)
and that's only because he's too young yet to be wierd.

Dulce son: No, you and I aren't wierd mom. You know who is wierd?
Me: Who's wierd?
Dulce son: My friend Matt, he is wierder than eating fresh pumpkins.
Me: *blank stare*
Dulce son: ...wierder than eating fresh pumpkins off the vine.
Me: Wow, that is wierd.

I think I'll keep that one.