In my continuing efforts to pack on the weight I didn't gain because of first-trimester nausea, I made a pan of brownies (not that it takes conscious effort to gain weight now....I'm a roly-poly pregnant lady). It was nearly bedtime, and we were hoping to pack away the children before indulging in the chocolatey goodness.
At this point in my blog post, I realize this story would be much better if it involved Kevin climbing up onto the counter and eating the brownies straight out of the pan or something like that. On the contrary. My children are far too disciplined for such tomfoolery. What followed was merely a cute conversation, so you may stop reading now if you were hoping for stories of naughty boys and ruined brownies.
Rob told Kevin to say to me, in a squeaky-cute voice, "Mom, can I go to bed now?"
Kevin turned to me and , in a perfect imitation of Rob's squeaky-cute voice, flawlessly matching intonation and timing, changing only three words, said, "Mom, can I have a brownie now?"
Huh. We sure thought it was funny at the time.
He did, of course, get his brownie.
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