A Tuesday of Harperisms

Claudia (our housekeeper): “Harper, are you using the potty?”

Harper: “Yeah… it’s really hard.”

 

Me (on the phone): “I think he’s from Turkey.”

Harper: “Oh my gosh! I see a Turkey!”

 

Harper (splashing in a puddle): “Oh my gosh! It’s bubbles!”

 

Harper (eating a grilled cheese): “Mmm, that’s fantastic!”

 

Harper was standing in the flower bed reaching up to ring a wind chime.

Me: “Harper, please get out of the mulch.”

Harper: “But I just ding-ing!”

 

Roman tipped over his cup of Pirate’s Booty.

Harper: “Oh no, Roman! You making a mess!”

 

Harper hands me a wooden slice of turkey from her velcro sandwich.

Harper: “…and here’s your pickle.”

Me: “Mmm thanks, a pickle!” (put it up to my lips and pretend to eat)

Harper: “No, eat it wif your mouf.”

 

Waking up from her nap, she stands up in her crib and starts jumping and shouting: “Hooray! We did it, we did it, we did it!” (she learned this from Pooh’s Heffalump Movie)

 

Harper tooted on my lap while reading a story and started giggling and declared: “Farts are funny!”

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