The other day, I went to pick up my daughters from a morning spent with their babysitter. As I walked through the front door, they ran excitedly to me, shouting my name and showering my with hugs. There is nothing - NOTHING - like such a warm and relieved greeting that is capable of making me momentarily forget that these were the same children that made my morning a living hell by throwing simultaneous tantrums over my reasonable request to put on socks.
"What did you eat today?" I asked them as we got dressed to leave.
"Flamingos," my older daughter excitedly informed me.
I shot a quizzical look at the babysitter. "Uh, is that even legal?"
She shook her head. "I think she means mangoes."
"Yeah," my daughter agreed. "Flamingos."
Check.
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