Overwhelmed by whipping cream
For example, we just sat down to a minimal dinner with a maximal helping of dessert: angel food cake with berries and freshly whipped cream (after some pumpkin chocolate chip cookies made by Anna). Eliza asked Anna if she would like a second helping of cake. “No!” insisted Anna. “I’m overwhelmed by whipping cream!”
Saturday afternoon, Lane and I were eating out at the local grocery store for our date. We hadn’t been able to go out to eat for our date the night before, because Lane was stuck in traffic, arriving half-way through Rebecca’s play, so we decided after our busy day of housework and Scouting that we’d grab some food at the grocery store before I headed to Eliza’s dance recital dress rehearsal. We bought some food from the deli/salad bar. I chose some kale/edamame/blueberry salad.
“I like it!’ I chirped.
“You can’t like it!” Lane protested. “Kale is scratchy! It is like eating a weed! It’s like a weed with thorns!”
“I do like it.” I confirmed. “There are blueberries.”
He refused to believe me, insisting with one last-ditch contestation, “[Kale] is like eating sandpaper, from the desert!”
Saturday, Peter and Lane were repairing some wooden window blinds, or rather, the strip of wood that goes across the front top of the blinds. Anna skipped into the room and saw Pete stapling Velcro to the back of the wood.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Making hippopotamuses,” Lane answered.
Anna giggled, and tried to get a different answer from Pete. “What are you doing?” she asked again.
“Making hippopotamuses,” he parroted.
And now we know why boys are such teases. They get it from their dads!