EO Speak & YO Speak

M4 is lying down next to the YO and getting in as many cuddles as she could get.

M4 (mushy-mummy-ly) : Tumi aamaar ke? (exact translation coming up so it does sound icky: Who are you to me?)
YO: YO (says his name)
M4: Naa, tumi aamaar chhotto baby. (No, you're my little baby.)
YO: Naa, aami tomaar YO. (No, I'm your YO.)
M4: Taaholey aamaar chhotto baby ke? (Then who's my little baby?)
YO: EO dada.
M4: Naa to. EO dada aamaar boro baby, aar tumi aamaar chhotto baby. (No...EO dada is my big baby and you are my little baby.)
YO: Naaaaaaaaa! Aami ekhon boro hoyey gechi, aami chhotto baby naa! (Noooooooo! I've grown up now, I'm not a little baby!)
M4: Tumi koto boro hoyey gechcho? (How big are you now?)
YO: Eto, dekho... (This much, see...) {and he proceeds to extend his arms above his head, hands spread the width of a full-grown cat, apart} Aami puro big boy. (I'm totally a big boy now.)

Ok my baby, even though you have no concept of size, length and width, if you insist, then you are a 'big boy' now. Sigh!!! :-(
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M4 treated her boys to a Domino's Pizza dinner, since they were sad about their Mamu leaving.

At the table, EO, though stuffed, is eyeing the last two slices of pizza in the box.
EO: Mamma, can I have that for tiffin tomorrow?
M4: No baba, you've already had too much. Tomorrow, I'm packing a banana in your tiffin box.

A debate ensues over which fruit to pack. Then the EO pipes up again, but naturally, since he's a fighter that one, and will keep trying with various lines of logic. Also, he loves getting in the last word...

EO: But Mamma, pizza is full of vegeytebils and cheese. So it's healthy. It's a healthy junk food, ok Maa?

Aaahh, my little one! You have no idea how many people, the world over, are waiting for the creative discovery of this wondrous thing called 'healthy junk food'...your Mamma being one of them!