
Today when we started out after lunch and after my kindergartner left for school I decided to stop at sonic for a big ‘ol diet coke with a squirt of vanilla. I was hoping that my 3 year old punk would be asleep, but no such luck. This is the conversation we had as I pulled up to the drive in.
“mama, I get somfin?”
“No honey, only for mama.”
“why!”
“Because you are a punk kid.”
“I no punk kid, I da baba grill.”
“no, really you are just a punk kid.”
“no, I not, I booful grill, I da baba grill!”
(at this time I spy a 99 cent dish of ice cream on the menu and order one along with my big fat diet coke, we pull up to the window and she see the lady hand me the ice cream)
“hey wa dat icreem for?”
“for mama”
“not for me?”
“no”
“why?”
“you are a punk kid.”
“dis punk kid like icreem!”
“she does?”
“ya!”
This is when I hand her the little dish of ice cream and a spoon. You would have thought I had given her diamonds! She made it last the whole shopping trip.
You gotta love those little punks…or “bootiful grills”









