Kiwi

Several years ago, when Jenna was still an only child, I remember standing at the stove making breakfast when my precocious little lady ran in and announced,"Daddy has a kiwi!" I stood there in a state of confusion. I am the one who does the grocery shopping and I knew for a fact that there were currently no kiwi in the house. Several moments later, John walked in and clarified the situation for me. Apparently, Jenna walked in on him using the bathroom and promptly named his boy parts kiwi. From that day on we jokingly continued to call boy parts kiwi and have carried on the "kiwi" tradition with Carter. (FYI-Jenna is aware that there is other terms for said body parts but refuses to use those terms.)

Fast forward to this morning. Jenna and Carter were sitting at the table eating their cereal when Mary Ava woke up. I changed her diaper, wiped the snot off her face, kissed her cheek and put her in her high chair.

As I walked to the refrigerator and opened the fruit drawer, I asked Jenna if she wanted a kiwi. To which she replied, "I don't like kiwi."

Then I wondered aloud, "Will Mary Ava eat kiwi?"

At this point, my little man looked at me confused. He stood up on the chair, covered his crotch with his hands and said, "No Mommy. Mimi no eat me kiwi."

Jenna and I looked at each other and started cracking up. I was flabbergasted. As you know, Carter doesn't talk much. I think these seven words may be the most he has ever put together at one time. And to top things off, he thought Mommy was going to feed his baby sister HIS "kiwi." Even after showing Carter the green fruit I just cut, I still don't think he was convinced.

Needless to say, Carter wouldn't even think about tasting the kiwi fruit this morning. Turns out Mary Ava doesn't like it either. I guess I am the only one in the house who likes kiwi.