Tuesday night while we were sitting on the couch, Shawn read my last blog entry. She laughed, and then we went back and forth trying to decide who it was that Reilly picked up “I a crazy kid,” from. I thought that it might be her, and Shawn claimed that she was pretty sure it was me.
Now, if it we were trying to determine who taught Reilly the word ‘shit’ I would have to claim responsibility. But the whole ‘crazy kid’ thing just didn’t sound like me.
We ended up in a stalemate.
The next morning Shawn came to me with something to confess. Apparently, when she picked up Reilly out of her crib, she said, “Good morning you crazy kid.”
She claimed that it was just because the phrase was fresh in her head from the night before.
Right, Shawn. Sure.
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