Evening conversations

Malcolm:  I wish I was a mom.
Me:  Oh, really?
Malcolm:  I wish I was a boy mom.
Me:  A dad?
Malcolm:  No.  A boy mom.
Me:  Well, a boy mom is called a dad.
Ceci:  Are beaks mouthes and noses?
Me:  Um, I think so.
Malcolm:  I don't want to be a dad.  I want to be Malcolm.
Me:  You are Malcolm.
Ceci:  I am going to draw you a picture.
Malcolm:  I'm going to draw you not a picture.

Man, I'm going to miss this age.

I just asked Malcolm what I should type.  He said the following:

Please don't scratch my foot.
Go home.
Go all to Old Mc Donald's farm.
I love Mc Donald's.
Go to bed.
I just sinkted up a story of me going on a train that is Gordon.