This morning, Connor and I were sitting at the table while I made a sandwich for lunch (ham and cheese with pickles, brown mustard and horseradish sauce - yum!) and Connor pointed to the cheese and asked, "Daddy, what's that?" I love getting him to say long words (hearing him say "hypotenuse" makes me smile like nothing else), so I told him, "Connor, that's artificial pasteurized processed cheese product." He looked at me for a second before a huge grin crept across his face, and he responded, "No, daddy, that's Cheese!"
Smart cookie, this one...
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