We were at Addison's birthday party on Saturday. He got as excited as she was about one particular present, yelling, "You got my favorite color--pink!"
Looking up after his soccer "practice" Saturday, Aidan asked, "Mommy, did I do a great job?" He sat by the edge of the field for part of it and didn't participate for a good portion, so I called out, "You didn't do a great job, but you didn't do terrible." (Not one of my stellar Mom moments, but a history of swim lessons explains my answer a little.) No one heard that, though - they heard his next question. Everyone heard it. "Mommy, did I do terrible?" Like I run around having "terrible" be his measure for everything. Ugh.
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