The children were eating dinner: pasta with pesto, peas, parmesan, and (to spoil the alliteration) bacon.
“Mmmm,” Beanie said, inhaling deeply. “It smells so good.”
“Sure does,” Jane agreed. “It smells like heaven.”
Beanie’s eyebrows rose. “Heaven smells like bacon?”
“Hmm, you’re right,” Jane amended, “that can’t be it. I bet heaven smells like…like ice cream!”
Well, as long as he’s wearing SHOES.
Speaking of The Bean
Topics of discussion on the way to Trader Joe’s with an eight-year-old