Yesterday, I asked my cute little #6 what he would like for lunch. I offered a couple of options, and fully expected the child to select from them. But, no. That was not to be. Instead, the boy looked me dead in the eye and said,"Mumma, I want *air quote* gwiwwed teez *air quote*. An
oval *air quote* gwiwwed teez *air quote*" Let me translate for you, as we have a little speech issue here, and it's not nearly as easy to understand in print as it is in real life. #6 wants an oval grilled cheese sandwich. Not just any oval grilled cheese sandwich, but an
air quoted grilled cheese sandwich. And also? What's an oval grilled cheese sandwich? I'd love someone to explain that to me, as the only bread this child has ever seen usually has square slices, unless someone stepped on, sat upon, or otherwise mangled the bread on the way home from the store. This happens more than I care to admit. We have a lot of french toast shaped like scary abstract art sculptures..... but I digress. *Ahem*
I'll have you know that my over active (and extremely under used) imagination went right to work. I couldn't help myself. It was the fault of the air quotes. I just know it. But when he did that whole thing? My brain went there. I totally imagined a mustachioed villain, speaking out of the side of his mouth while twirling that long evil 'stache, standing on a street corner waiting for innocent children to walk home from school. "Hey, kid! KID! Wanna buy a dime bag of..... *air quote*
oval grilled cheese *air quote*?"
Is this what we have come to? My 4 year old is now using oval grilled cheese as code for some sort of black market baby crack? What would that black market baby crack be? Cinderella fruit snacks? And who taught my monsterlette the proper use of air quotes anyway?? It boggles the mind. I'm not old enough or mature enough for this kind of trauma. This kind of thing is what prompts the Daddy to encourage me (yet again) to go to the doctor and get a nice prescription for ativan....
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