Aunt Tiff/Little Cowboy Day of Fun

“When he worked, he really worked. But when he played, he really PLAYED.” ~Dr. Seuss

Last week I checked off one of my favorite 30 by 30 List items when we had a Little Cowboy/Aunt Tiff Day of Fun.  I do not have the energy to keep up with a 6 year old.  I don't know how my brother and sister in law do it.  That little dude is non stop.  We had so much fun----toy car races, book reading, driving lessons, riding in the car with his head out the sunroof (we were not supposed to tell the moms about that one), fried pickle and tacos for lunch, playing t-ball, shopping for "horse stuff----you name it and we did it.  Here are a couple photos and my favorite quotes from the event.

(Upon seeing a police officer in the post office)
Little Cowboy: If you're here to arrest me, you're gonna have to deal with my lawyer.  {Yes, he seriously said it.  And yes, I'm seriously a lawyer.  Ha!}

Little Cowboy: When I get older, I'm gonna drink whiskey, fight people in bars, and chase wild women. {Moments like this make me glad I'm just the aunt and not the parent!}

Little Cowboy:  My arm hurts.
Me:  Why?
Little Cowboy:  I got shot today.
Me:  Who shot you?
Little Cowboy:  Dang Yankee.

We were doing math in the car, so I as asking him addition questions.
Me:  4 plus 2?
Little Cowboy:  *Sigh.*  6.  That one's lame.

Me:  What do you want to do today?
Little Cowboy:  Fix fence.  {Said no one else.  Ever in life.}

(After my mom told him I spent the day before working on my taxes)
Little Cowboy:  I want to stay a kid my whole life so I don't ever have to pay taxes.  {Me too, kid.  Me too!}

My mom's friend:  Do you have any guns?
Little Cowboy:  Nope.  And don't try to jip me for money because I don't have any of that either!

Little Cowboy was eating chicken strips, french fries, and gravy.  My dad stole a french fry, which was okay.  But when he got another one and dipped it in gravy, Little Cowboy was not impressed.  He smacked my dad's hand and knocked the chicken off the fork.  He doesn't share his gravy, apparently.  Except with my mom.  Since they are best buds.

Little Cowboy:  I hate Taylor Swift.  And Carrie Underwood doesn't eat meat.  I'd rather eat dirt than listen to Two Black Cadillacs.
Me:  Well what singer do you like?
Little Cowboy:  Miranda Lambert.
Me:  Why?
Little Cowboy:  Because she's a wild woman.

(After pitching a fit that I was running the OKC Half Marathon because I would die like the people in Boston)
Little Cowboy:  Fine.  I don't want you to run.  But if you're going to, I am going to help you.  Four laps around the house.  Go!

(During our driving lesson when he was driving on the wrong side of the road)
Me:  What are you, in England?  We drive on the right side of the road.  That means the driver is always in the middle.
Little Cowboy:  So the other side is the English side?
Me:  Yep.  In England they drive on the other side.
**Later on, after we turned around and were about to go again**
Me:  Okay, which side of the road do we go on?
Little Cowboy (pointing to the right):  This one.  This ain't England.  'MERICA!

Little Cowboy: You're 29. That's not so bad. But then you'll be 30. Which is pretty much 40. That's old.