One day last week, Elisa was on a copy-everything-you-say kick. I was trying to have a conversation with my mom before leaving the house, and every time I stopped to take a breath she'd repeat my last line. So, in a stroke of cheesiness, as I walked out the door I said, "So, I'm going to go get a parrot . . . oh, wait -- I already have Elisa!"
And I forgot all about it.
But someone else didn't.
On Saturday Natalie and I were at Target, and I was becoming quite impressed with her apparent obliviousness to the Christmas toy displays, when we turned a corner and came upon a colorful display of battery-operated talking parrots.
She noticed the thing (bah-humbug to executives who study five-year-old psychology for evil marketing purposes), lit up and said "Parrots! I'm going to get a parrot . . . oh, wait -- I already have Elisa!"
Where in the world did she learn that? I thought. What a nasty thing to say.
And as I looked down at her for reprimand, she looked up at me for approval.
And I remembered where she'd learned it.
She said it again this morning while I was making her breakfast.
It's terrifying.
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