One Thing Leads To Another

I told the previous story so I could tell this one.

Ellie survived the quick stomach flu, and was sledding a day later along with her sister, a number of the neighborhood kids, their parents, and me. There is a vacant lot about half a block away with an amazing slope. We will surely miss it next year, since we expect it to have a home built on top of it.

The three-year old was timid about riding the steep mountain, but she felt safe in my arms on our thin piece of plastic that we refer to as a sled. She and I took the virgin flight, and as expected, she absolutely loved the adventure. Her big sister wanted to share the fun with her, so the two of them boarded and proceeded to fly down the hill, hit a bump, and swerve right into a port-o-potty conveniently situated directly in their path. That was about the end of our sledding experience for the day, but I was able to encourage her to go down one more time with me. As I was placing her onto my lap, she took the oversized mittens that enveloped her tiny hands, and covered her entire face to avoid seeing our trip. By the time we reached the bottom of the hill, she was squealing with delight.

"I flewed!" she exclaimed as we started our trek back up the mountain.

As we reached the top, a neighbor friend that noticed Ellie covering her eyes before we left asked, "Ellie, did you peek at all going down the mountain?"

To which Ellie promptly replied in a very adult-like informative tone, "I did the last day in da cup but I had to stay at home and not go to Manissa's (Melissa, the baby sitter) so I laid on the couch and wested."

I had to clarify the question to the child, as well as the answer to my puzzled neighbor, "You PUKED yesterday, honey. Did you PEEK through your mittens today?"