Beer Tales

The three-year-olds are chatting. George has a new, bright red hat, which starts this conversation:

“I don’t have my red hat anymore,” says Darcy, a little forlorn. “I lost it with my daddy in the beer store.” (Beer stores in Ontario are actually called this: The Beer Store. No point in being subtle.) Darcy did not lose daddy in the beer store. I saw daddy this morning. Just the hat.

Arthur chimes in. “Hey! I go to the beer store, too! With my daddy, too!”

George, it seems, is also familiar with the local purveyor of potables. “I go to the beer store with my daddy. We get the beer for mommy.”

“Yeah,” Artur notes. “My mommy likes beer, too.”

Mary can’t resist this one. “Gee. George’s mummy likes beer, and Arthur’s mummy, too. Does your mummy like beer, Darcy?”

“No, she only drinks Corona.”

(So all the mommies are belting back the brews. *hic* Wonder why?)

I Just Work Here…

Harry: Let’s play school!
George: Yeah, let’s play school!
Harry: You can be the teacher.
George: Okay.
Darcy: And it can be a chocolate school!
Harry, George: Yeah, a chocolate school!
Darcy: A chocolate pizza school!
Harry: Let’s drive to the grocery store.
George: Okay. Let me get my golf club first.
Harry: Now we can go to the grocery store.
George: I have my golf club, and the chocolate.
Darcy: And I have the pizza.
Harry: Hurray! Now we can go to school!
Darcy: Chocolate Pizza School!