We bought a quarter cow from one of my co-workers. Bill picked up the meat last week, and now our freezer is FULL! Yesterday, Bill made a roast. He tossed it in the crock pot with some onion soup mix, water, carrots, and redskin potatoes. When I walked in the door, dinner was done. I love this!
My children, however, did not. They didn't seem to mind the roast, but aren't a fan of cooked carrots or potatoes. Bill and I finished up dinner, and moved on with our evening while the boys continued to pick at their food (since I've never forced them to eat tater tot casserole, shepherd's pie, or cowboy supper, I don't feel they are truly suffering). I went in the bathroom, closed the door, and almost immediately heard Nolan playing in my room. I was surprised, because I thought he still had quite a bit of food to eat. I called to him, "Nolan? Did you finish your dinner?"
You have to imagine his little three-year-old voice. This is exactly what I heard, "Weeeww...not exactwy....but Daddy said I could be finished. But no dessewt." (Translation: Well, not exactly. No dessert)
I laughed. He talks in such an adult fashion. Even though he can't pronounce some of the words he uses.
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