Me: I’m going to make lots of pie this summer. Strawberry rhubarb pie! Peach pie!
Soren (looking at Peaches): Peach pie!
Soren (looking at Coltrane): Coltrane pie!
Today, it went like this:
Me: Should I make a pie this weekend? What kind? Apple pie?
Me: Peach pie?
Soren: Soren pie?
Me: Son, we’re vegetarians.
Update: Today (a day after I wrote this post), I finally realized that when Soren says “Peach pie,” he means a pie for Peaches, not a pie made of Peaches. So Coltrane pie is a pie for Coltrane, and Soren pie is a pie for Soren. Duh. I think my misunderstanding might stem from that time an old friend and I, when we were in junior high (now called middle school but I still call it junior high when referring to myself), found for sale at the local grocery store in the pet food aisle something called “Kitty Stew.” We were all, for kitty or of kitty? WTF?
1. As far as I know, Soren has had pie only once, at a dinner party we attended last year. The pie was chocolate and amazing and I was surprised because as far as I knew, Soren had never heard of pie but as soon as someone said “pie” he was all OMG pie yay!! One day not too long ago I mentioned donuts, which as far as I know he’s never encountered, and he was all OMG donuts yay!! There must be an underground toddler dessert information network I don’t know about.