Dinner. Daddy’s in charge. He’s presenting them with a plate of grilled chicken, grilled the night before, when we also had steak.
Simon and Samantha, in unison: “What’s that?”
Simon and Samantha, in unison: “Chicken!?”
Daddy: “Yes, chicken.”
Simon and Samantha, in unison: “Oh, we love chicken!”
Daddy begins slicing up the chicken into more child friendly strips.
Simon pipes up: “I love steak!”
Daddy: “You like steak?”
Simon: “Yes. I love steak!”
Daddy: “Well, we’re having chicken tonight.”
Simon responded, cheerfully: “No, steak.”
Samantha sighed, exasperated, and instructed her Daddy: “UGH! Just call it steak!”
Daddy: “Samantha. You are beginning to sound eerily like your mother.”
I don’t sound -anything- like that.