“The bees polimate the fwowers. and make new fwowers" my three year old informed me.
"That's right!" I said, rather impressed.
"Yeah. That's right." he confirmed. "The bees…. Poli… polimate the fwowers. Even purple fwowers. I just pick the fwowers. It’s okay." he paused to watch my face and see if he could pick the flowers. I only saw dandelions in danger and said nothing.
Seeing no dispute was to be had he continued, "The bees polimate the fwowers and then I can pick them.” He scampered off and plucked a dandelion from the lawn and galloped back to hand it to me. “The wishes are turning into yewoe fwowers and the bees polimate them. I just am picking ’em. and blowing ‘em.”
September 02, 2009
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