bort bort bort

the three of us sat at the dining room table. pillsbury crescent rolls, a package of weinies and a cookie sheet spread out before us. we were making some dinner.

“what are these?” max asked.
“weinies,” i said.
“they look like little hotdogs.”
“that’s what they are.”
“why don’t you just call them little hotdogs.”
“because weinies is more fun to say.”
“you’re crazy jodi grody.”

“jodi are we chefs?” jaycie asked.
“yes, i guess we are.”
“are we going to cook these?”
“yes.”
“then we really are chefs! maybe we can have a show.”
“what kind of show?”
“a cooker show where we can be the chefs and people will eat stuff.”
“sounds wonderful to me.”
“this is going to be the best chef party in the whole wide world! all we need to do is go to paper warehouse and get some balloons.”
“we’re not gonna get any balloons.”
“ok, but then this isn’t going to be the best chef party in the whole wide world.”
“somehow, i think i’ll live.”

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