I was kissing my daughter good night last night when I ran into one of my children's famous conversation stoppers.
Me: "Wow, you look like Dora with that haircut!"
Her: "I hate Dora."
Me: "Well, it looks good. Do you like it?"
Her: "Yes. You smell like cheese." (Keep in mind I had just showered, so unless my soap is cheddar scented, I should've smelled like flowers.)
What the heck? I'm not even sure what to say to things like that. Kind of like when Rags said his dinner looked like gingivitis. Honestly, how do you respond to that? It brings any conversation to a screaming, screeching halt.
It surprised me so much it made me choke a little, then I had to leave for a minute because I was laughing so hard I was almost crying. And there you go: my boring Monday night. An opener to an equally boring Tuesday peppered by mild hysteria related to an audit I'm supporting from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. every day this week.
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