Milk and Cigarettes

On Monday, Davis called on his way home from work and Oliver answered the phone. They talked for about five minutes, Oliver telling Davis about the painting he had done, about how he had helped Henni to roll over...then I hear Oliver say "Just milk and cigarettes, thanks." What?! Poor Henni, I stop feeding her so I can grab the phone from Oliver and try to determine where the conversation had gone horribly wrong. It turns out Davis had asked if we needed him to stop and get anything on the way home. Hmmm. When either of us has a rough day we joke about needing to go to the store to get milk and cigarettes - in other words - rough day, heading out, and may or may not come back. After a number of rough days I gave Davis a GPS for his car and a note - "So you can always find your way home after getting those milk and cigarettes."

Now this brings me to the dingbat. Davis tends to call bad drivers dingbats. He mutters this under his breath, but clearly loud enough for Oliver to hear. When either Davis or I stop, brake, or change lanes, Oliver now yells out something like, "Hey, what's that dingbat doin'?" "You dingbat, let my mommy go." Even "better," when Oliver is playing with his cars I often hear him muttering dingbat this or dingbat that. Again, hmmm.

Oliver, once again, has proven that he is ever hearing and ever seeing.