“Mommy, why don’t you like the word, MOIST?”
“Darling, I JUST ate. Can we talk about this later?”
Today after dinner, the kids and I were enjoying dessert, yummy warm cookies from Tiff’s Treats. My daughter took one bite and asked the question above. She knows how I feel about the word moist.
A few months ago, she and I were walking. As we walked, out of nowhere, she said, “Do you know what my favorite word is, Mommy?” “No,” I responded, “what is it?”
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“Did Uncle Brian tell you to say that?”
“No, I just love the way it sounds, moist.”
“Oh you’re hilarious, Uncle Brian put you up to this.”
“No, why would he do that?”
“Because he knows that’s my least favorite word in the English language. I hate that word.”
“Moist is your least favorite word? Why?”
“Because it is! STOP saying it, please.”
Oh! The humanity!!! Imagine that everytime I hear the word moist, even type the word moist, it’s like finger nails on the chalkboard…teeth sliding along the tines of a fork. It hurts, it hurts! Make it stop!
So there’s some irony that my daughter’s favorite word is moist, and my least favorite word is moist. What are the chances?
This is a perfect example of God’ sense of humor. I’m convinced. Similarly, I cannot stand…CANNOT STAND… for syrup to touch anything other than pancakes, french toast and the like. My pancakes must be on a separate plate. The syrup must never touch the eggs, hashbrowns, or God forbid, bacon, sausage, or ham! I typically eat syrup items last, as a breakfast dessert, but if not I clean my fork between food items. OR better yet, use separate forks.
Somehow I birthed two children who are not only comfortable with syrup cross contamination, they actually ask for a side of syrup to dip their bacon and such in!!!!!!!!! Breakfast with them is an exercise in torture. I try to keep my eyes on my plate until the meal is finished. Lest I vomit the perfectly good meal I haven’t yet paid for.
Blek, people. Just, BLEK.