“You have four options,” I told her this afternoon, after I put away the Costco tub of pretzels, from which she had consumed, at a modest estimate, twenty shorty pretzel rods. “You can have some carrots, some celery, a banana, or an apple.”
Using her right fingers to make sure her left fingers did what she wanted, she lifted three fingers and said, “You have [double checking her fingers] three options. You can have a hotdog, a hambuh-ger, or a chee-buhger.”
I laughed and hugged her, and we split a banana with peanut butter.
I think we’ll have cheeseburgers tomorrow.