My nephew D-Cubed will turn 3 next month and two of his favorite things to do are:
1) Iron (it’s a toy I got him from Mothercare, before you call child services!)
2) Call me and chatter about the inmates of his residence
which has me believe he’s a middle-aged hausfrau in a spindly boy’s body, but never mind that.
He also specializes in stating the obvious, like so:
D-Cubed: Hellooooooo? OJ? Mummy stomach is paining, Daddy having a bath.
OJ: And what are you doing?
D-Cubed: Not having a bath.
What’s the going penalty for ditzy aunts?
Wisdom Wears Neon Pyjamas 
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