So I asked Zachary to clear the lunch dishes off the table--including the stuff UNDER the table that his brothers dropped, or threw, and this is the conversation we had.
Z: "Sometimes I think my brothers just like to make me work. Work, work work!"
Me:"Welcome to my world, child." (I have this thing about calling all the kids "child"
Z: "Well, Mommy? (most sentences are started this way, with the well, mommy question) Some things are different in my world."
Me: "Really? Like what?"
Z: "I can't tell you, it's a secret."
Me: "Of course you can tell me! I'm your Mommy!"
Z: "I really can't. (then, with vehemence) "I don't even tell my imaginary friends!!"
Lol! Just my giggle for the day, resume your lives.