Excerpt from a conversation with a three-and-a-half year-old who happened upon me today at 12:30 and introduced herself as Leah:
Leah: Oh, hi. What are you doing in here?
Me: Cleaning up the art room.
Leah: Do you work here?
Me: Yes. Do you take classes here?
Leah: Yes. And I'm going home. That's why I'm here. Because I'm going home.
Me: That sounds good. What are you going to do at home?
Leah: Eat lunch. See my mom.
Me: Oh! That's nice. What will you have for lunch?
Leah: Chippies.
Me: Tell me again?
Leah: Chippies.
Me: Chippies. Will you have anything else?
Leah: Nope. When I eat chippies, that's all I have.
Me: Oh. Interesting! What are they like? (trying to figure out what in the hell she's talking about) Are they crunchy?
Leah: I'm not sure. No. Not crunchy. I'm not sure what they're like. (grinning in a big way) They just taste like chippies.
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