Roan, in his carseat: Mama, you can’t sit next to me because there’s lots of too many stuff.
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Roan, in his carseat at night, afraid of the dark: Mama, will you hold my little feetsies?
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Roan, sleeping in a new place: I’m snuggling with Dada because I need some cuddle time.
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Roan, asking about his Aunt Heather’s dog: Is Molly’s heart broke because she wants her Grandpa?
Roan, an hour later: I’m fixing my leg.
Lavina: What happened?
Roan: It’s heartbroken and twisted.
Lavina, to anyone: Where does he get this stuff?
Raising Roan 