The darling mispronunciations of childhood!--dear me, there's no music that can touch it; and how one grieves when it wastes away and dissolves into correctness, knowing it will never visit his bereaved ear again.
-Mark Twain

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Austin, 4 - Rotten Eggs

Austin's usually a fan of my potato salad--until a recent travesty...

I was getting the grub ready for a BBQ with friends. Austin walked into the kitchen & said:
"What is that Horrible smell?!"
I told him it's just the eggs I cooked for the potato salad.

Later at the BBQ he wouldn't take one bite of his potato salad--I told him he needed to eat some, to which he replied:
"But it has rotten eggs in it!"

(oops!)
Posted by at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)