Picture this: Saturday morning. Boy-O & I are attempting to sleep in. Neither the niece or the nephew understands this concept.
There is a knock on the bedroom door.
T: Can me and my sister have a orange?
Me: We don't have any oranges, dude. And it's "an orange."
T: (Goes away).
Two minutes later, another knock:
T: Can we have some criss-criss?
T: Some criss-criss?
Me: Baby, what are you talking about?
T: You know, what we had for dinner last night?
Me: You mean cous cous?
T: Yeah, can we have some of that?
Another morning, getting ready for school:
T: Uncle [Boy-O], what was that you called me the other day? Black sergeant?
Boy-O & I: What? What are you talking about? (This is a recurring theme in our house.)
T: The other day, you called me black sergeant or something.
Boy-O: No, honey. I said Sergeant Pepper because of the jacket you were wearing.