Who’s Big Chicken?

I sent the two little ones to my sister’s house in Minnesota for a week. While they were visiting they went up to the cabin near the boundary waters to spend some time with Mother Nature.

Along with getting to participate in an outhouse beautification project (yes, I said outhouse – and I will not be visiting the cabin any time in the near future),

dressing up in festive 4th of July costumes and parading around town (Teresa, Curt, Henry, and the girls took 2nd place – #2 got her grubs on that medallion and wasn’t giving it up!),

and spending #3’s 9th birthday away from her parents,

my children have come home with a new vocabulary.

I don’t mean that in a negative way, but #1 has started to pick up on it.

Here’s what I’m dealing with..

“I’m not sayin’. I’m just sayin’. Ya’ know what I’m sayin’?”

“I hear ya’ cluckin’, Big Chicken!”

Any ideas how many times one can hear that in the course of a day before she starts researching boarding school options? Answer: 537

I love my sister to death. I just hope she’s prepared for retaliation when she sends the Henster to Camp Cronin over Christmas break this year. (Consider yourself warned!)