Lost in Translation

Remember this post about the kids confusing the meaning of the word "privacy?" Well, I have a new one.

After dinner every night when the kids remember, they ask THE question. "May I be excused?" It was Thomas first tonight. Then Anna. Then Rose. "Can I be excused?" "Yes honey. You may. Go play with your brother and sister."

She hopped down from her seat and stared at me. I smiled. We had a moment.

Then she sauntered over to the pantry and back to my side again. "Can I be excused?" "Yes, darlin." We stared at each other again. I apparently wasn't "getting it."

She looked at Jeremy. "Daddy, can you get me a be excused? I can't reach it."

Didn't you know? Be excused is Rose for dessert.