Chloe wanted to play restaurant with me yesterday morning. It beat playing Junior Scrabble where she would sweep the board in a random act of violence against the alphabet whenever she struggled with my interest in shoving the word “qay” (one of the few words the “q” does not require a “u” a play made famous by my Mother-in-law but strangely gets a red underline when spell-checked..hmmm) in her competitive little face.

Chloe: Mommy, what would you like to order?

She held a small pad of paper and pencil in her hand. So I guess we are playing restaurant now?

Me: Do you have tea with milk?

She started to draw circles, some ovals and then a few more circles before informing me, “No, we do not have tea with milk. We only have bird poop.”

Um, pass.