Lola, curled up on the floor tightly hugging her cat, murmured to him, "I spy something with my little eye that is orange, and it's you."
On the way to her preschool, which is located in a forest a third of a mile off the paved road, she likes often to play hide and seek with me. The last time, she shouted at me, "DON'T SEE ME!" as she performed a particularly lame bit of hiding.
Somehow she picked up a phrase, "When you eat chicken noodle soup, there is a party in your stomach", and she kept saying that for days. I let it go, but finally one day in the car with Iris there as well (Iris is my Vegetarian Conscience; the child is like PETA personified), I felt I should say something (largely to pacify the seething but oddly silent Iris). I said gently, "You know, because we are vegetarians, we don't actually eat chicken noodle soup. Iris and I love chickens." Indeed, Iris has requested that we move to the country so she can have chickens for pets, and her planned date for this is as soon as she finishes the 8th grade. (She also plans to move to Italy when she turns 24; she's got it all figured out).
Lola said quite condescendingly, "But those are food chickens. That is different." Silly mommy, not realizing that soup is made from "food chickens."
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