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I wish I could keep track of more of these....Anna is such a ball of laughs. And half of it is in the delivery, so if you don't find these funny in type, come on over for a show with the comedienne herself.

ME: Dora is coming on next.
ANNA: No, I don't think you're right.
(A few minutes later, while I'm in the other room, I hear screamed...)
ANNA: NO!!! I AM WRONG!! It's Dora!!!
(I just called Curtis to tell him that Anna has been picking up phrases that he uses a lot, but I didn't elaborate.)

ANNA: You shouldn't talk with food in your mouth. You should only talk when there isn't any food in your mouth.
(Nice to have manners. Embarrassing when your 2 year old corrects everyone who passes through the front door. Or maybe we just know a lot of people with poor manners....Hmmm.)

ANNA: My favorite on Winnie the Pooh is Chris-a-miss Robin.

ANNA: There was a dog, and he was walking, and then he fell. [doubles over laughing] Do you think that's TIL-A-RIOUS?! Wait, let me tell you my joke again and it will be til-a-rious again. There was a dog, and he was walking, and then he fell. [doubles over laughing] Do you think that's TIL-A-RIOUS?! [Repeat as needed....she did.]

ANNA: Let me tell you a story. Once there was a little girl on the potty. And it all happened in the Hundred Acre Woods.
(I kept asking, but she said that was all there was to the story.)

ANNA: Mommy, are you having issues?

ANNA: Oh no!!! Get me a Kleenex! My Zebra stepped in poop and I need to clean his foot!
CURT: What Zebra?
ANNA: This Zebra, right here. He's a baby Zebra. (Ahhh...he's a pretend zebra. OK.)
ME: What poop did he step in?
ANNA: (Giving us the silly parents look) This pretend poop, right here!

To set the scene.....Curtis and I are working on the computer in our bedroom, and Anna is in the living room "helping" my mom fold clothes. After the "helping" was getting counter productive, this ensued:
MY MOM: (In her best mean mommy voice to Anna, after warning her several times to stop unfolding the clothes) NO!
ANNA: Grandma, don't speak to me that way.
(While my mom is doubled over laughing, Anna comes to tell us in the bedroom...)
ANNA: Grandma is not being nice to me.

While reading to Anna on her bed, our often annoying dog Rigby jumped up on her bed (this is Anna's dog, mind you) and I "nudged" him off with my foot.
ANNA: Mommy! Please don't beat my dog. That's not nice.