Januray and Febuary Iterations

E, totally out of nowhere: "E. T. O."
Me: "What's that?"
E: "That's how you spell 'excavator.'"

E: "M. O. E. is how you spell 'Mommy.'"

E, at dinner: "I don't like monsters but I do like tofu."

He wrote a poem: sticks and sticks and avenues gray.

I kissed his belly and he said, with grave seriousness: "You can't go in my belly, mommy. That's not where I put you." "Where do you put me?" "In the cupboard."