Dinnertime at Caterpickles Central

Mommyo, curiously: “The Seven-Year-Old, will you tell us about your day?”

The Seven-Year-Old, plaintively: “Do I have to? I’m kind of out of words and then I just start repeating the same words over and over again.”

Mommyo, persistently: “You just used a bunch of words explaining that you were out of words.”

The Seven-Year-Old, patiently: “I’m not actually out of words. I’m just out of sentences.”

Mommyo, ironically: “‘I’m out of sentences,’ she said declaratively.”

The Seven-Year-Old looks at her Mommyo blankly.

Mommyo, consolingly: “That joke will be much funnier when you’re in third grade, The Seven-Year-Old.”

Daddyo, flatly: “No it won’t.”

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