fortunately at least one remembers their first language
June 12, 2007
Tonight my daughter was having a major freak out at bedtime. She had to go to bed 15 minutes early as a consequence for some horrendous behavior this afternoon.
I put her into bed and she started crying for her blanket. Her special blanket wasn’t in her bed.
“I will get it for you. Where is it?”
“It’s near the papal juice,” she sobbed.
“The papal juice.”
“Um, okay,” I said.
I left her room and headed down the stairs. I repeated it over and over in my head. What the heck is papal juice? We aren’t Catholic. We certainly don’t have any juice belonging to the Pope here.
I walked around giving a cursory glance through the rooms. I decided to ask the kids.
“Hey, anyone know where papal juice is?”
The oldest kids ignored me, as usual, but my 6 yr old popped up and said, “Under the bench in the mudroom!”
I looked in there and sure enough there was her blanket. Right next to the baseball shoes.
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