Noah and I had a good conversation this morning.
Noah: Mommy, can you help me with the Legos?
Me: No, I'm working.
Noah: The man will help me.
Me: Who is the man?
Me: Oh. Are you a big man, or a little man?
Noah: I'm a little man.
Me: When will you be a big man? How old do you have to be to be a big man?
Noah: Five. I will go to my class.
For the entire conversation, he was answering in this goofy voice. So my next question was:
Me: Why are you talking funny?
To which he replied, without missing a beat:
Noah: Because I'm American.