Spotty Communication
"Mommy, how do you take care of a pimple?"
"Excuse me?" I sputtered as I choked on my orange juice.
"You know, a pimple. How do you take care of one?"
My son looked up at me with expectant eyes. I gathered my thoughts and replied, "Well, I guess you should wash your face every day. And if you have a pimple you shouldn't pick at it."
My little guy looked confused. "But Mommy," he continued, "What do you feed it?"
"Feed it?"
"Well, yeah. What do you feed a pimple?"
I slowly chewed my piece of toast. "Ummm ... well ... yes. No. I don't think I'm following you, Buddy."
"But Mommy. I want to get a pimple as a pet."
I digested his comment. "You want a pimple as a pet?" I clarified.
My four-year-old gave an exasperated sigh and slumped in his chair. "Yes, Mommy. You know, those cute pimple dogs."
"You don't mean a poodle, do you?"
My son's face brightened. "Oh yeah! That's what I mean. I love poodles!"
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