Isms

In the opinion of the esteemed Ferris Bueller, "isms" are not good. Now Ferris and I almost always see eye to eye, but here's one spot where we differ.

"Cow-isms" is the title of my new regular feature on this blog. Thanks Nik, for the recommendation that I create a forum to showcase the brilliance that my daughter regularly shares with the world. And thank you to Amy, who submitted her vote to hear the more dubious, yet equally entertaining, brilliance that my husband has to offer. On occasion, I also produce the odd flash of je ne sais quoi, so I'll throw that in here as well.

In this inaugural post of its kind, I submit for your consideration my husband's unique take on the world:

M: Why do you think his condition progressed so quickly?

J: Well, I think he's a little bit homeless.

M: ??

As well as my daughter's timeless wisdom:

M: What do you think my job is?

E: Well, to watch me take a bath, and to pick me up sometimes, and all kinds of stuff like that.