Last night around dinnertime, Sylvia toddled over to the cabinet like E.T. and swung open the door. Then she yelled sounds at me and pointed up into the cabinet. I started pulling stuff out for her. Crackers? No. Granola bar? No. Cereal? No. The yelling and pointing continued. Can of beans? No. Bag of croutons? Yes yes yes yes!
She ate about five croutons before I cut her off. Poor kid. It's hard living with such dumb and mean parents.
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