You don’t say.

LK came up to me yesterday, and he was chewing on something. He’s a little old for sticking random things in his mouth, but at the same time lunch had been over for a little while so I became quite suspicious.

“Whatcha got in your mouth?” I inquired.

To which he sidled up to me–looking devilishly mischievous–and said mysteriously, “That’s not something you need to worry about.”

I think my eyebrows hit the ceiling, and he immediately took on an “oh, shoot” sort of look.

“That,” I said rather pointedly (while trying not to laugh…it’s a lot harder than it should be), “is not something you’re allowed to say to your mama.”

He giggled a little before assuring me it was a little salad leftover from lunch.

Well. Alrighty then!

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