OK, so my current example of this phenomenon pales in comparison to that one, but it'll have to do. Today, out of the blue, Lily started asking me a litany of "What is?" questions.
Daddy, what's bleach?Daddy, what's sausage?Daddy, what's a marker?Daddy, what's a baby?
Are you freakin' kidding me right now? How the hell do you tell a 3 year-old what sausage is? What's worse is that right after the first line of questioning, about 3:00 this afternoon, all of the memories of when Avery hit this stage came flooding back. I can remember being so frustrated that my eyebrows were tingling when she'd start in with her nonsense . .
Corey, what's hair?Corey, what's a house?Corey, what's pink?Corey, what's a flower?
Oy. I can just hear George Costanza screaming in the back of my head . .