Musings of a Marfan Mom

Close, but No Cigar, Kid.

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The other night we all made a quick trip (well, as quick of a trip as you can make with two little ones) to the mall. The Menininho is at the stage where he’s looking for some independence, so instead of riding in the stroller he often prefers to walk. This outing was no different; he held my hand in the parking lot and then I turned him loose in the concrete area between the movie theatre and the mall. He had a great time running big arcs to keep up with Daddy and away from “the monster” trying to catch him and eat him.

This was all fun and games until I saw the cigarette disposal. You know the ones: they look kind of like a trash can except the top is an ashtray. M and I saw it at the same time and he bolted for it. I lengthened my gait and grasped his hand just before he reached for some cigarette butts.

“FRIES!” he exclaimed.

Oh.

No honey. I can’t promise you many things in life, but I can promise you those will NOT taste like In N Out french fries.

I don’t know if Mark and I have laughed that hard in a long time.

What’s something funny your kids have said?

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