Tonight at bathtime…
> **Iris** (while I was flicking suds at her): You throwin’ mashed potatoes at me?
Later, she picked up some suds in her little red barrel. “That’s a creamy head!” Then she made what sounded like her usual fake-snoring noise.
“Are you snoring?” I asked.
“No, I’m drinking the beer.” She nudged her plastic fish toward the barrel. “That’s some fishy snack. Fish is eating some oatmeal.”
“Is it Irish oatmeal?” I asked.
“No, it’s fish oatmeal.”