I'm not stylish

The little one dressed herself for a walk wearing a bright fuschia tunic, tight gray leggings, Keen sandals and a plaid pink fedora. She requested carrying pink plastic dressup heels to put on at our destination.
Mom: You are really stylish Little Bean
LB: No, I'm not stylish. I'm nothing. Nothing but me.

That is certainly true.

Later that evening she recited a poem to me, a love letter to Hahsbarrows (I have NO idea how to spell this invented gentleman's name, this is as phonetic as I can get it). The poem involved his illness, a forest, holding hands, and kissing among other things. I can't believe I didn't get it on video. Um, this kid is 3 years old. Her TV exposure is limited to Nick Jr, Curious George and the main trio of Disney princess movies: Mermaid, Belle, and Cinderella. Makes me wanna believe in past lives.

Can I have one apricot?

LB: Mom, can I have one apricot, please?
Mom: Yes, babe, you can have one apricot.
(She gets the dried apricots out of the pantry, and takes out a nice big wad of 6 apricots from the bag).
Mom: Um, little one, that doesn't look like ONE apricot.
LB: Yes Momma, it's one clump of apricots...

Mom: Little bean, did the baby just put something in her mouth from the floor?
LB: Yes.
Mom: Did you see what it was?
LB: Some crap.

Mom: What did you have for snack at school today?
LB: Teddy grahams. Some brown teddy grahams and some that were not brown. And chocolate milk.
Mom: Ooh, chocolate milk. You've never had chocolate mik before! What did you think?
LB: Oh, it really cools you down. (It was a very gray and gloomy day that day, don't know if that helps frame the strangeness of her reply).

Never mind that she also insists on calling the husband and I by our given names. Ah, how to regain the respect of a precocious 3 year old?!?!?!?