Tuesday, October 9, 2012

8 ball

The other day as I was running errands with Hailey, she was playing with this eight ball toy that came from a drive thru kids meal.   She would keep asking it questions in correct eight ball form and then spelling out the response and asking me what it told her.

She asked it if she was pretty. She asked it if she was smart.  She asked it if she was nice.  She asked it just about everything she could think of and the answer was always the opposite of what she wanted to hear.  No.  Not likely.  Maybe.  The eight ball never once gave her a positive response.

She told me that the eight ball didn't like her and it only told her mean stuff.   I tried to explain to her that the eight ball didn't really know any of the answers to her questions, that it just randomly selected an answer and since it was from a drive thru it might not even work correctly.  When she wasn't really buying that answer I told her maybe it was just in a bad mood and that's why it was being so mean to her.   To which she responded - "Yeah, I think there is a brother in there!"

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