This morning:
(I walk into the kitchen. Cordy comes running after me.)
Cordy: Muuuuk! Muk! I nee muk! I nee muk!
(Note: this is her pleading, whiny, clearly-I’m-dying voice)
Me: Sorry Cordy, you’re not getting milk.
Cordy: I nee muk!
Me: (pouring a sippy cup for her) No, Cordy. You’re getting juice.
Cordy: (pause, as she thinks) Juisse?
Me: Yes, juice.
Cordy: Juisse! I nee juisse! I nee juisse!
Me: (handing her the sippy cup) Way to re-prioritize on the fly, baby.
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