The girl is mine
It's been a long day and I'm tired and not 100% on my game. So when I instruct Evan for the 50th time to find and put on his clothing after he's taken a bath, I'm not really thinking about my words. I mean to say "Evan, where is your underwear," but somewhere along the way, I forget my train of thought and end up coming out with the grammatically cringe-worthy "Evan, where is your underpants?"
Julia doesn't miss a beat. "Where ARE your underpants," she corrects me instantly. The response is so automatic that she doesn't seem to even realize she's said it.
I smile as I run off in pursuit of my still unclad son. I may not be able to influence one of my children to dress himself with any degree of consistency, but I've clearly had an impact on the other one.
Julia doesn't miss a beat. "Where ARE your underpants," she corrects me instantly. The response is so automatic that she doesn't seem to even realize she's said it.
I smile as I run off in pursuit of my still unclad son. I may not be able to influence one of my children to dress himself with any degree of consistency, but I've clearly had an impact on the other one.
posted by Rebecca | 6:29 PM
5 Comments:
I'm happy to see that the female Kramer genes are alive and well in the next generation! I'm known at work for, among other things, gramatically correcting my former boss' performance evaluation of me.
So she didn't laugh and say, "I see Evan's underpants!" Trade kids with me? Just for a day? ;)
Hee! I remember how irritated my mother was when I started correcting HER grammar . . . I'm glad you had a sense of humor about it.
Hehehe. I'm with Jennifer... mine would be saying something along the lines of "I see her tushie!" ;-)
Ahh, like mother like daughter. And I'm with Jennifer. Let's trade for a day. :-)
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