This evening Billy kept shouting, "Daddy gas! Daddy gas!!!"
Now, I bet you're thinking that Billy was taking issue with stinky farts. Well, I think most people take issue with that, but that's not what he was talking about.
Let's learn Billy:
Daddy gas=Daddy's cutting the grass!
Yes, apparently mowing the lawn is very interesting. I took Billy outside (oush-shide) so he could watch Daddy fire up the mower. It sprang to life with a loud rumble that had Billy quaking. "Mommy, insh-shide!" Billy will do anything- ANYTHING- to be outside at all times. Asking for inside is like an adult asking for a root canal. "Mommy, insh-shide!" Yeah, those mowers are pretty scary.
But watching from the safety of the window was pretty cool. He pulled up a chair to watch Daddy mow the back and then got to stand at the front window (it's lower) and watch the whole front mowing entertainment.
A few times the mower cut out. "More?" he asked me every time, expectantly, using his sign language too. Really, mowing is so exciting he wanted more.
He even told Grandma on the phone about fifty gazillion times that "Daddy gas!"
To Billy's great dismay, Daddy ran out of grass to cut. Well, our yard is only so big. But no worries, the grass will grow again. And when that happens, "Daddy gas!"
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