Ezra: Mommy, those shoes [heeled sandals] look like dinosaur feet.

Ezra: Do you know what it's called when someone watches a baby and a big boy?
Me: Babysitting?
Ezra: No--bothsitting.

Here's a partial list of Hard Questions Ezra has asked me in the last few days.

1) What happens when we dive [die]?
2) What is God?
3) What is the sky made of?
4) No, what food is the sky made of?
5) Why is mayonnaise called that?
6) Where did outer space come from?

Ezra's been big on eschatology lately. He also pronounces "die" as "dive," so anyone overhearing our conversation would assume he was talking about water sports. Recent conversations include:
Ezra: Who was your brother?
Me: I don't have a brother.
Ezra: You used to have one, but he dived.
Me: No, I never had a brother.
Ezra: Yes you did.
-----------
Ezra: Who are your cousins?
Me: I have lots of cousins. There's Wade, --
Ezra: But he dived.
Me: No, he didn't.
----------
Ezra: Noah went to a store and there was a bad guy and Noah dived him. I don't know what store.
(Personally, I think Noah's full of shit. I don't think he's ever dived anybody.)

Ezra: Mommy, let's run some errands before we go to the hotel.
Me: You mean church?
Ezra: Yeah. Church is another word for hotel, and hotel is another word for church.
Me: I don't think we have any errands to run this morning.
Ezra: The room looks like you like it?
Me: Well, I'm not done decorating it, but the house definitely looks better than it did when we moved in--it feels more like home.
Ezra: You can say that again.

Me: Meagan might be moving to Australia.
Ezra: Why?
Me: Because her boyfriend lives there.
Ezra: Because her love him, and sometimes she get sad at home because he's not there?

Ezra: I wonder what Milli's baby is gonna be called. Maybe Milli's mom can ask him when he comes out.

Me:...The little dog laughed to see such sport, and the dish ran away with the spoon.
Ezra: What about the dish ran away with the dish?

Indeed.

Per a parenting book I read, I've taught Ezra that when Jude hits him or does something else hurtful, he should tell Jude that he doesn't like it. But often from the next room I hear:
Ezra: Jude, I don't like it when you hit me! OW! I don't like it when you hit me! Jude, I don't like it when you hit me! OW! I don't like it when you hit me, Jude! OW!
And Jude's just going whappity whappity whappity.

Ezra: Mommy, why do I love Milli and Milli love me?

Ezra: Mommy, why you don't grow babies anymore?

Me: Look at this great picture your friend drew for you! It says it's a picture of you.
Ezra: But that doesn't look like me. That looks like a dragon.

Look who's talking, Rembrandt.