conversations with small boys

From a few mornings ago when I went to get my two year-old from his bed:

His sippy cup of water had leaked causing him discomfort from a cold, wet pillow. He said with a pout on his little face, "My sippy cup leaked....Only moms say, 'Dammit'?" To which I said, "Yes. I mean No. Even moms can't say dammit. It's a bad word." Where on earth did he hear that word?

From two nights ago when my four year-old came streaking into our room at three in the morning filled with terror thinking he had heard something in his room. As my husband held his trembling body, he said, "I want my addy," to which my husband replied, "I am your Daddy."

I want my addy," he reiterated.

Awww, I thought. He's so scared he's reverting to baby talk.

"I am your daddy," my husband reassured him.

"I WANT MY TEDDY," he stated in exasperation, referring to his red bear he'd chosen to sleep with that night.

Oh.