Picture this:
Three little girls, their aunt and Grandma are eating snow cones outside when it's about a million degrees out.
We go back to Grandma's, and I pull out my phone to show Grandma videos of Eric Church that I took at the concert last week.
My adorable, brilliant and beautiful 2-year-old niece looks at the video.
"Where Monta?"
Grandma looked at me.
"Monta's right there," Grandma said, as she pointed to a male camera man in my video.
(Monta = Monica in 2-year-old speak)
The 2-year-old doesn't know any better. She bought the story we were selling her.
And then the brilliant 2-year-old had another question.
"Where me?"
Uh, what do you mean, child?
"Where me?" she said, as the pointed to the video of a concert that was in another state that I did not invite her to.
Dude, you're 2. You did not go to the concert with Aunt Monica.
She looks confused and says, "Why not?"
I think I might have a concert buddy in the future.
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