Deep Dinner Thoughts

I wasn't feeling so hot last night, so we ate pretty quietly. We sat at dinner contentedly enjoying our spaghetti when out of the blue Brynn hits us with:

"I like my teeth."

"Oh, yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah. See these bumps?" She points to the grooves at the bottom of her two front, big girl teeth. "I can take a bite of my spaghetti and if I think it is getting to long I just chomp down hard and those bumps saw off the noodles."

Chad and I stifle our laughter because Brynn REALLY doesn't like it when she thinks you are laughing at her.

"Do you have bumps in your teeth?"

"Not anymore," I say, "my bumps wore off."

"Oh too bad. I've got really good teeth."

I thought that would be her best comment of the night, but turns out she had one more critical discussion she needed to have.  Once again, from the clear blue sky she says:

"So if you drink too much chocolate milk, will you die??"

"What? no, you will not die from drinking too much chocolate milk."

"I didn't think so. My friend says you will, but I said no way, chocolate milk doesn't even taste like anything." Sits for a minute and you can almost see the hamster wheel turning in her brain. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. You don't die from drinking chocolate milk."

"Right but if you drink A LOT?"

Chad pipes up. "You'll throw up before you die."

"Oh seriously Dad, gross."


Every conversation with that one is unexpected. She's a riot.