A few days ago, from another room, Annie said, "________ _________." I froze. Did I hear her right? Did she really just say that? I thought I heard her say it. But there was no way. Right? I mean she's not even two years old yet.
Where would she have heard that? Who taught her that? Oh. My. Gosh.
Lord, surely my child didn't just say "_________ _________."
Not my child. Not at this age. Not from these two parents did this child spring...
But she said it again. And again. And again. And I couldn't make it stop.
I sat- thinking in the living room- of all the things in this world that my child has decided to talk about, has she really landed on this? And what does this say about her as a person? I mean, what will she grow up to be and do? Will this last well into her adolescent years? Does this have bearing on who she will become?
I walked into the restroom where she was staring at her daddy's Rolling Stone magazine...
I shot this footage.
My sweet-proper-graceful-mother-n-law, later confessed.
She slipped, she admitted. She didn't realize Annie's memory was so strong. She was just trying to distract her.