Taste of my own medicine

This morning I took the kids outside to eat a popsicle. Emerson loved hers and Cullen just walked around pretending to eat his and talking about it. He was walking, chanting "sicle, good, yum" to anyone willing to pay him attention, and dripping fake sugary banana goodness. After about 20 minutes the popsicle really started to disintegrate and in one huge lump fell off the stick onto the porch. And this is where my story really begins! Cullen looks down, then looks at me and says "Mama, I break."
me: "You break?"
Cullen: "it break"
me: "it breaked"?
Cullen: "uh huh, yeamam (supposed to be yes mam, it's sooooo cute)"
Then Emerson chimes in: "No Mama, it BROKE, not breaked."

Well, that's what I get for constantly correcting her grammar. I stand corrected, by a 3 year old no doubt!