Marguerite had her four-month well-baby checkup scheduled the other day. On the way to the pediatrician, I get busy lecturing Andrew and Therese about appropriate, quiet, calm behavior in the doctor's office. Maintaining decorum in tiny offices with multiple little ones seems always something of a challenge for me.
In my great desire to have a good experience at the doctor's office, I resort to bribery: "Milkshakes for all of you if you are good at the doctor's office today."
Voila! Milkshakes are like magic. Therese and Andrew exhibit stellar behavior and earn their reward.
On the way home from the appointment, Therese, getting anxious, asks when we will get to the "milkshake store" (aka: Dairy Queen). I tell her we'll be there soon.
Moments later, Andrew asks the same question.
Before I have time to answer, Therese responds, "Andrew [eye-ball roll], we're in a neighborhood. You know there are no stores in a neighborhood."
Cute. And perceptive.
For the sake of conversation, I say, "Therese, how do you know there are no stores in neighborhoods?"
Therese's four-year-old response: "Look, Mom. We're in the woods, for goodness sake." [yet another four-year-old eye-ball roll.] "There are no stores in neighborwoods, Mom."
Self-assured silence from Therese.
Mom continues driving, trying to stifle her laughter.
Silly me. All this time I thought it was a "neighborhood."
(For the record, we were on a tree-lined, residential street which I would not consider to be "woods." Guess things look—and sound—different to a four-year-old.)