Say what?

Last Friday, my activity with the twins I'm mannying was to bake peanutbutter cookies. It seemed like a good call, as they were relatively easy to make but had things the kids could--more or less-do: roll balls, smoosh with a fork. Oh, and eat. They could definitely eat cookies.

I brought a few home to share with Lauren, and over the weekend we were both in the kitchen, I was eating a cookie, and a crumb fell on the floor.

Now, what Lauren heard me say was "Come clean up my cookie." She thought it was kind of a dickish thing to say, and was kind of put off by it, but to both our surprises she came over, bent down, and picked it up without a word. That didn't, of course, mean she was happy about it, because after all is is a crappy thing to ask your pregnant wife to pick up the cookie crumb I just dropped.

However, what she didn't hear was my first word, as I actually said "Beaker, come clean up my cookie." We had a good laugh over it.

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