Out of the mouths of babes

I am a teacher. Thus, I am poor. Our needs are met, and many times our wants. Sometimes, I even mix in hamburger meat with the Hamburger Helper… other times, it is just… well, Helper. We are living large.

So to guarantee our children’s college education, I am preparing them now for their SATs. Yes, I know… they are only 2 and 4. I am afraid I may have waited too late. I am trying to make up for lost time by focusing on one polysyllabic word per week. As I may have mentioned before, Chloe (the 2 1/2 year old) often picks up on her sister’s word of the week.

So tonight, we were out to eat when two old women began to rave about how beautiful Chloe is and how gorgeous her hair looks. She, in typical Coco fashion, was politely ignoring them as she examined the wall. (It was faux-stucco, and in all fairness, at least somewhat interesting.)

I called her name and prompted her, “Chloe… what do you say?”

She turned, looked at me and smiled. Then she looked at the two elderly women, gave a gap-toothed grin and said quite clearly and with typical Andress volume, ” ‘Scuse me my flatulence!”

She is her daddy’s girl.