"Elizabeth, what does Dylan eat?"
"He eats a boob."
"Elizabeth, Dylan is crying. Go play with him."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because he's crying. Stop crying!"
"That's why I want you to play with him."
"No. No way."
As Dylan lays on a blanket grunting, face turning red, clearly he's working something up:
"Hey, Elizabeth, what's Dylan doing?"
She glances as him mid-grunt.
"He's doing a ca-ca."
Elizabeth lays down next to Dylan, puts her hand on his head, he reaches over with his foot and touches her leg:
"No Dylan! Don't touch me! Ok?"
"So you can touch Dylan, but he can't touch you?"
"Right. Don't touch Elivateth."
3 comments:
My confirmation name happens to be Elivateth!
If Dylan gets fussy, she'll come over and tell me, "Dylan hungry. Wanna eat a boob."
And she says it with such self-assurance, that I know she must be right!
That would be wildly inappropriate!
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