On a recent walk, Benjamin demonstrated his remarkable echoing abilities (if I should suddenly die, you will still be able to hear my voice inflections, idioms, and general speech patterns through my eldest son - - creepy!). I was holding their hands as we crossed a driveway – making a driver slow down for us. As he drove by, he yelled out the window: “WALK ON THE PATH NEXT TIME – IT’S SAFER.” (“it’s safer” being a euphemism for “so I won’t have to wait an extra four seconds”)

And, being the kind and gentle type who pities other people in their ignorance, I shouted right back at him, “THEY’RE PAINTING THE PATH. WE CAN’T.” and adding under my breath: “you idiot.”

And as we kept walking – and I was annoyed yet again by people who don’t give mothers of young children just a little bit of grace – Benjamin looked up at me. I cringed, expecting “he’s an idiot, Mama?” But instead it was just “They’re painting, Mama?”

Whew.

But then, sure enough, a few days later...

"You said WET PAINT to the man?"

"He was vewy wude?"