Okay, I am sort of hijacking this story, but since the girls had barely tumbled into the house yesterday before they were telling me all about it, I feel like it kind of happened to us, too. I mean, the girls did tell me all about it…
The girls went to take pictures in the bluebonnets with their dad and stepmom, way out in the country. On the way there this (approximate) conversation happened:
Stepmom: We’re going to see some Belgian waffles!
Bee tells Gracie, and then promptly falls asleep. Because Bee and car rides of any length, always.
A little while later, it must have dawned on Gracie that this doesn’t quite make sense…
Gracie: Wait, is there a restaurant out there? Or something?
Gracie: For the Belgian waffles?
Stepmom: …horses. Belgian horses.
Only my children would mishear “waffles” for “horses.”
Also, now I would like some Belgian waffles with warm fruit topping please. Someone get on that.