LeMons

My daughter is a talker. She loves to talk. And interrupt other's when they are talking. And just generally all-around be the center of everyone's attention. (I have no idea where she gets it?!) Another thing you should know about her is that she mixes up letters. She has called dogs "gods" and stories "roasties". (I really don't know where that comes from.)

So we're hosting some guests at the pool. It's a beautiful sunny day in Portland (yes, they do exist). Birds are chirping, the kids are splashing and playing, and I'm, well, hosting. Now, to be a good hostess, you need to offer your guests a drink. And it's early enough that we're not ready to break out the tequila. So I'm thinking water with lemon. I love lemons, the kids love lemons, and it's just one of those lemony kind of days.

Me: "I was going to go get some water. Would you like some?"
Guests: "Yeah, sure. That would be great."
And just as I'm about to ask if they'd like lemon in their water, there's C, mouth poised, ready to interrupt:
C: "Yeah. And my mom has big, juicy melons!"