Shortly after getting home from work last night Leah and I had our pre-dinner 'what did you do today' conversation. Leah told me she went to gymanstics and that her friend Monet had an accident in her Monet-a-tard. As my brain works fairly slow, I asked Leah what Monet had an accident in, to which she responded in a firm voice "Her Monet-a-tard daddy!"
If your name is Leah you wear a leotard to gymnastics. If your name is Monet you wear a Monet-a-tard.
It's times like those that make all of the grumpy mornings, bedtime troubles, and household messes fade into the background. Leah rules.
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