on the way to taco bell. i ask 6yo what she wants. she is very specific and says that she wants a spicy beef soft taco with cheddar cheese (read: soft beef taco with whatever cheese they put on it). i ask her twice if she is sure she doesn’t want a gordita like mine, since she always wants some of mine. she is adamant that she wants a SPICY. BEEF. TACO. WITH. CHEDDAR. CHEESE. so this is what i order for her and 2 gorditas for me (so i can have one for lunch tomorrow).
we get home and i am putting the food on plates.
6yo: so maybe i can have half of one of your gorditas.
me: no way. i asked you several times if you wanted one and you said no!
6yo: but i could have half of one.
6yo [play pouting]: yes, i can.
me [sighing in resignation]: maybe, just MAYBE, you can have a little bit of one.
6yo: so that’s like half.
me: no, that is like a little.
6 yo: which means half. [big smile]
me [trying not to smile]: which means a little. maybe.
6yo [frowns while thinking about this for a minute]: when i say a half, i MEANT a little. i don’t think things mean the same thing you think they mean, but you didn’t ask me what i meant, so i couldn’t tell you that a half meant a little!
me: *smh* whatever.
annoyingly, after giving the little varmint a HALF, she didn’t eat A DAMN BIT OF IT!!! >.<