Conversations with Brain Rot

I feel guilty for not keeping up with my blog and writing more often, but it always seems like life gets in the way. I always want to wait to write when I know I will have time to finish writing a post, but those moments are few and far between. I am the kind of person who does not like to start something unless I can finish it. I get plenty of ideas for posts all the time, but I am usually lying in bed or busy doing something else. There are also plenty of funny things that spew out of Big Brother's mouth to write about, but I can never seem to remember them for too long. What makes it even harder to remember now is that he just doesn't say funny phrases anymore, but we can have whole conversations about his take on the world.

One short conversation revolved around the topic of leg hairs that I overheard him have with his dad in the shower while I was busy nursing the Bee. It went something like this.

Big Brother: "Daddy, what's all that fur on your legs?
The Dada: "It's hair. When boys grow older and become men, they grow hair on their legs."
Big Brother: " I don't want to become a man, I just want to stay a boy."
(I can't say I blame him.)

It continued on from there, but like I said, I can hardly remember these conversations unless I've had the opportunity to repeat them soon after with others.

One conversation I still remember from about a year ago when I also decided it was a good time to stop walking around the house naked looking for clothes after my showers, I discussed with big brother my lack of an accessory.

Big Brother: Mommy. You don't have a penis?
Me: No.
Big Brother: Why not?
Me: Because I don't need one. Only boys have a penis.
Big Brother: Daddy has a penis.
Me: Yes he does.
Big Brother: the Bee has a penis.
Me: Yep.
Big Brother: But you don't have a penis???? [giving me a very perplexed and puzzled look with a hint of worry followed by a very pensive pause]
Big Brother: Maybe you can borrow daddy's penis.
Me: [Laughter ensues] I don't really think daddy would like that.
Big brother eventually loses interest in this conversation and runs off with a puzzled look.

The only reason I even remember this last conversation is because I just had to call to tell everyone in my family about it. It was too funny to forget.

For now I will continue to blame my inability to remember things on my pregnancy brain.
Has it been too long from my last pregnancy to keep blaming my inefficient brain on that? Hey, if you can still have postpartum depression two years after you've had your last baby, I think I can blame my less than perfect ability to remember things on "pregnancy brain".