Max finds a way to combine his love of tall tales, mythology, and theme days at preschool:

We should have lumberjack day, shield day, and thunderbolt day.

After months of preparation, and about 20 minutes in the field, noted Palentologist Maxwell Busboom is prepared to announce the discovery of an entirely new Genus, Felisaurus Charliecus. Discovered in lightly compacted clay loam and histosol with a shallow overburden, the fosil is estimated to be 2×10-6 MYO. Although excavation is incomplete, Maxwell is confident it is a significant discovery.

Max will continue excavating the fossil and expects to make it available for public viewing in three months.

Aren’t kids supposed to have a few words they mispronounce?  It’s both cute and non-threatening, assuring parent that there will be be a few more years before the kid is both smarter and taller.

Dad: What did you see at the fair? Did you see a Griffon? Did you see a … Cerberus? Did you see a Chimera?

Max: No daddy: you’re supposed to say “Kye-Mer-Ah”.

The obsession with mythology is bad enough, but does he really have to call attention to Dad’s prole interpretation of Latin? At least dad is still taller than him.

Max has been fascinated with disease and epidemics, with his recently favorite books being Epidemics and Pandemics. He is particularly fond of sputum cups and quack doctors.  Here is his contribution to epidemiology, Sputee the Sputum Cup.

Max and mom are at Trader Joe’s

Mom: Max, help me pick out a wine.

Max: Get the root wine!

Mom: What is root wine? Where do you see root wine, Max?

Max: It’s wine without the alcohol. 

Max is finally defecating in the toilet, so he has been unusually scatological for the last few weeks. 

Seraphia. That’s a thick layer of poop.

I’m not fabricating any of this — that is exactly what he said, and we have no idea where he got the word or why he said it. I suspect that it is  a very useful word, given the right situation. 

We sincerely apologize to any women named Seraphia for re-defining your name, but Max is 4 years old, and it is pointless to argue with a four year old. 

I Shave Before Battle!

Max informs his parents that the word for Barbarian and Barber are related. Civilized  soldiers shaved their beards so their enemies could not grapple them. Apparently, Max is not a barbarian, food-tossing snits not withstanding.

“Max, what do ground squirrels do in the winter?”

“They eat Homo Habilis!”

The Homo Habilis is one of Max’s favorite exhibits at the San Diego Museum of man. He’s so fond of the Museum that one of his imaginary friends is Lucy, and another is Stele, after Stele D, a rock carving from Honduras.

That’s a big poop, like a banana or a sausage. It came out of my rectum

Max has a very nerdy relationship to his body. He doesn’t get boo-boos: he gets abrasions over his humerus; The itsy-bitsy spider is an arachnid on his epidermis; eating ice cream results in “I have dry ice on my cerebellum. “

Max: I’m full of vibrations!

Dad: Max, where are your vibrations?

Max: In my stapes bone!

His father doesn’t know what a stapes bone is, either. Ok. He does know what it is, but was taking a break from being an arrogant, prideful bastard.