Today Trista and I did some Thanksgiving baking while all the other kids were at school. After making the pumpkin bread we started on the dough for the rolls. I sat her on the counter next to the mixer and the canister of flour. Before I knew it she was dipping her finger into the flour and licking it. I didn't really say anything the first time--I assumed she'd realize that white flour alone just doesn't taste good, but I guess she thought otherwise. Back went her little finger several times, and finally she went for a whole handful. You would have thought it was sugar the way she was just eating it. Gross! Who wants to eat a whole handful of flour? I kept telling her to stop and that it was yucky, but she just didn't agree. She'd eat a little bit of flour, then spread some on the counter and drag her finger through it and say, "Pretty, it's pretty Mom."
Consider this your warning if you're having Thanksgiving dinner at my house: Your roll probably has a little bit of Trista in it. Eat at your own risk!
Later, on the way home from preschool, Dallin and I had an interesting conversation.
Dallin: Why is your heart right here (pointing to his chest)?
Me: I guess Heavenly Father decided to put it in our chest to keep it safe. Our ribs help protect it.
Dallin: Chests stink.
Me: Well, mine doesn't.
Dallin: Yes, it does. Heavenly Father made our chest stink so that if bad guys come and they try to get our heart, it will stink. I can smell it right now.
Me: Maybe you just have gas.
Where do kids come up with these things?
