Yummy

Inevitably, the conversation turned to dessert, as all seven-year-old boy conversations do.  And by conversation, I mean that I was trying to work on the computer and he decided to stand next to me and jabber.

"What kind of dessert did you have in mind?" I asked, knowing the answer would be ice cream.

"Well, ice cream," he said.

"We don't have any ice cream," I told him.

"A candy cane?" he ventured.

He had been vying for one ever since Justin bought a chocolate peppermint version at the store last week.

"Alright, you can have a candy cane," I said, noticing the fancy red striping on his shirt that wasn't there a mere half an hour before.  "Say, is that ketchup you smeared across the top of your shirt?"

"Yep."

"Oh, ketchup is hard to get out of your clothes, Logan," I chastised.

"I didn't like it," he said, helpfully.  "It was all spicy."

Hmm.

"Spicy?  You mean the same ketchup we use all the time that you love?"

"Sometimes it's not yummy," he declared.

- 24 November 2015