Ah, Toddlerhood.

Tonight at the dinner table:

We were bribing Mozart to eat his quiche and veggies with pieces of crust from our own quiche.  All was going quite splendidly and then he says, "I gonna eat that toopid crust."
TW, somewhat shocked: "What did you say?"
Mozart, with a smirk: "That toopid crust."
Me, very seriously, even though the way he says toopid is just too cute: "We do NOT say that word."
Mozart "Toopid! Toopid!"
TW: "That's ONE."
Mozart: "Is toopid."
TW: "That's TWO."
Mozart, giving it up for a bit, goes one to talk about other things for a some time. And then: "Lilly said word toopid."
TW: "Well Lilly shouldn't say it either. That is not a nice word."
Mozart: "Poopy crust?"
TW: "That's ONE.  Again."
And finally he drops the potty mouth for the evening.

Later, completely unsolicited, he said, "Tank-you cooking, Mama."  And this was said with a sweet smile and absolutely sincerely.

And finally, I'm washing him up and saying goodnight so we can do the pass-off for the bedtime routine and he burst out into song, "Love you so much, Mama.  Love you sooo much Mama.  Mama love.  Love you sooo much Mama..."

Melting.