Last night, Greg and I took the girls to see Santa at one of our local malls. We like that mall because the Santa has a genuine white beard and because he seems like such a jolly, happy soul. No, really, the local newspaper profiled him last year and he seems like a wonderful man, who's been playing Santa for something like 15 years.
As we were driving, the girls were both talking to themselves, which is pretty normal. They don't usually talk to each other, but each of them will be telling stories to herself or talking to a toy or something.
Greg and I paused in our conversation and that's when we noticed that Julia was reciting, "Oatmeal, Oakmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina. Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina."
We looked at each other and started smiling and the recitation continued, "Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Ballerina." Then she threw in a new one, "Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Ballerina, Princess. Oatmeal, Oatmeal, Princess, Princess."
We have no idea what it meant, but because she wasn't reciting, "Kill Mommy, Kill Daddy, Kill Allie," we didn't interrupt her.
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