There is a little girl in our gymnastics class, and today her mom was encouraging her to use her feet to kick the balls, not pick them up with her hands. "Hot potato, hot potato," she kept saying. Lilly looked at her, at the little girl, at me, all with an expression of "I'm not seeing a potato here." Once the little girl had moved on, Lilly walked over to the ball she'd been touching and very gingerly reach out two fingers. She tentatively touched it a time or two, before giving me a look that clearly said "That woman is out of her mind."
I love my literalist kids.
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