Isabelle is my 5-year-old niece. She makes me reconsider my whole childfree thing sometimes, but then I see other kids at the mall, and I remember why I don’t like children. (Actually, I don’t like people, but smaller, fragile people who scream and need changing are worse.)
Isabelle: Aunt Meg, what’s this?
Meg: You making a weird face at the dinner table.
Isabelle: No, what’s this part?
Meg: Your tongue.
Isabelle: No, what am I doing?
Meg: Sticking out your tongue.
Isabelle:No! Aunt Meg! I’m doing a Gene Simmons!
I know I didn’t teach her that.
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