My son is so weird.

Me: Alex, why were you cutting up a paper plate last night?

Alex: I dunno.

Me: Why did you leave the scissors and mess there on the floor.

Alex: I dunno.

Me: I don't either--but I DO know that you're going to clean it up--NOW!

Alex: Mom, I know you've been sick, so I'm no making fun of you, but I have to say, when you talk in that voice it's pretty scary. But when you try to yell, it just disappears. It's not scary, it's funny.

Me: Clean it up, Alex.

Alex: I still think you sound funny.

Me: And while you're there, put your socks in the laundry.

Alex: I think they're Chris's socks.

Me: They're yours.

Alex: How do you know? They look like Chris's.

Me: I watched you take them off last night and leave them on the floor.

Alex: Are you watching me all the time?

Me: Yes.

Alex cleans up the scissors and paper plate mess, then pick up the socks.

Alex (muttering): I guess they are mine.

Me: How did you determine that?

Alex: They smell like peaches.

Me: Excuse me?

Alex: The socks--they smell like peaches, so I guess they're mine.

Me: I'm going to request that you don't explain that any further. I don't want to know.

Alex: Are you sure? It's very cool.

Me: I'm sure.

Alex: But I want to tell you.

Me: You're going to have to wait. I'm pretty sure I need to go take a nap, or check the color of the sky, or think about whether or not carpet makes sounds.

Alex: That's not very nice.

Me: Neither is leaving messes for your mother.

Alex: So, if I don't leave messes for awhile, you'll let me tell you why my socks smell like peaches?

Me: I guess so.

Alex: Cool.