"Mom," Emma said to me one morning this week, "I want Weeds for breakfast." I raised my eyebrows at that.
"I'm sorry, you want what?" I asked, picturing the compost pile in the backyard. That had to be it; she couldn't possibly be pointing out her knowledge of drug slang. Could she?
"I want Weeds," and she pointed to a cereal box on top of the refrigerator. I quickly scanned the choices, and wondered which one was the mystery choice. There was Special K, Kix, Chocolate Cheerios and Mini Wheats. It had to be the Mini Wheats, so I grabbed the box. "Yah, the Mini Weeds!"
It's great that she's reading, but she has come up with some funny pronunciations now and again.
Yesterday afternoon I was texting one of my sisters-in-law and asking for dinner ideas. Emma was sitting beside me when this text arrived:
"Crepes! like French breakfast for dinner."
(We had crepes for dinner when Michael and Blair were over for dinner once. And we are certainly NOT opposed to having breakfast food for dinner.)
Only Emma didn't get it at first. She looked at me and said, "What are Creeps?"