Random Boy

Yesterday the kids and I were running errands. Zsa Zsa, upon getting buckled into her seat, told me she was going to sleep. The Boy handed out this little gem:

"Mom, I'm not sleepable right now. When I *am* sleepable, I'll go to sleep, OK?"
"OK"
"I want to be a fireman with a fire HAT and fire BOOTS and a fire JACKET and ALL that stuff!"

What can I say? He can't help being that random. It's genetic.