Chip's cousin Erika, who happens to live one block down from us, invited us over to dinner last night since her dad, Chip's Uncle Mike, was in town from Chicago. I hate going anywhere empty handed, so I grabbed a bottle of red and hurriedly mixed up a batch of the infamous cava sangria as soon as I walked in the door from work.
As we walked down the sidewalk to the Ottolini's house, Mary Clare, who was temporarily on break from pushing her brother in the stroller, looked up and caught sight of the cocktail pitcher.
MC: What is that?
Me: It's a drink to bring to cousin Erika's house.
MC: But why you have it?
Me: When you go to someone's house, it's nice to bring them something.
MC: But what is it?
Me: It's mommy's favorite, cava sangria.
MC: [inaudible response]
Me: Mary Clare, did you say "Oh, my" or "Okay?"
MC: I said "Oh, no."
Me: [still not hearing/not wanting to hear] You said "Oh, my?"
MC: [yelling] I said, "Oh. NO!"
Chip: That's what daddy said, too.