As I was buckling Alice into her carseat for the short drive to Harris Teeter, she said, "I like your necklace, mommy. It's so jewelry!"
After getting groceries, I was strapping her back into her carseat and Alice was less complimentary. The car had been sitting in the sun and evidently did not have a pleasant aroma because Alice let loose this tirade: "Eww! The car smells like poo jam cheese, tinkle farts, and butt poop."
Ever since moving to the big class at daycare, her vocabulary has unfortunately become more more restroom-oriented. I'm starting to understand the phrase "potty mouth" more clearly.
