My coffee with Dylan

Dylan has turned around in his chair to talk to me.  (Apparently grandma isn't much of a conversationalist.)  Here is a bit of his wisdom.

"In February I turn three.  And then it will be my birthday.  And Roseanne will come over and we'll play with trains."

"I don't like loud noises.  When I hear a noise I call my mommy."

(After almost choking while making a face with his fingers in his mouth) "Wow.  I just choked a lot."

"Sometimes when I stuff my mouth with goldfish, I choke really hard... and then I cry.  But it's okay because I like goldfish."

"I sleep in my bad the whole night.  Not always but mostly."

"I like to sit on the bench but when other people are sitting there grandma and I have to sit over here.  But if they move, then we can sit there."

"And sometimes... I have a problem with poop."

"Coffee is not for kids.  But champagne..." (long thoughtful pause) "...is not for kids either."

"Coffee can't get hurt."