We were eating at McDonalds the other night while Abby was at her latest counseling appointment.
I know, I know - not the healthiest of options, but when you have a total of 50 minutes after dropping Abby off to pack the other kids back into the car, drive somewhere, unpack the kids, order and wait for food, eat, pack everyone back up into the car, drive back and unpack the kids yet again, you do what you have to...
Ron was with us this time so he, Hannah, Becca and I found a booth and we got everyone situated with Becca in a high chair. However, she was not impressed by being the only one at the table in a high chair, and proceeded to both let us know (loudly) while attempting to simultaneously climb out of the high chair and stuff her face full of chicken nuggets and fries.
I have very talented children, you see.
Ron was getting a bit frustrated with her, especially since she was covered in ranch dressing and the world would come to an end if he got one tiny little minuscule amount of it on himself. So he was trying to hold her in the high chair, and Becca was quite upset about that.
So Becca then turns to me, and as clearly as you can imagine, bursts out with, "Moooooommmmyyyy, Daddy pushed me!" in that drawn out, accusatory yet whiny tone of voice that kids always seem to use when tattling or trying to get someone else into trouble.
Ron and I tried (not too successfully) to hold in our laughter because she said it exactly the same way, inflection and all, that her big sisters do.
Sigh. Is it too late to re-think this whole third child thing? :)