Weird

Yesterday Mookie asked if she were weird; a girl had said, not approvingly, that she was. We affirmed the general virtue of weirdness and said pooh pooh to the girl.

Tonight Mookie was hunting through a drawer for the bag of dried mangoes.

Me: Honey? I don’t appreciate the way that girl made it sound like a bad thing, because it’s a good thing–but you are weird.

Mookie: Why are you saying that?

Me: Well, sweetheart, you just called to the mangoes, “Come to Mummy.”

She started laughing so much she literally rolled on the floor. Hey, I was just quoting her.

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