So, spring is here, and we’ve been hanging out at the park a bit. One of the imaginary play things our girls do is to run an ice cream store under the playground. They offer us various desserts, and we accept graciously. We often make special requests that are obliged.
Yesterday, Oakley came to ask what size we’d like.
Oakley: Would you like a small, or a medium?
Tim (quoting a semi famous restaurant in Madison, WI): I’d like one as big as my head.
Oakley: We can’t make them that big.
It’s official… even my children know how large my head is.