So this discussion took place when I was playing with my daughter:
Baby York: \”I\’m going to get married, Daddy.\”
Me: \”Oh yeah, who are you going to marry?\”
Baby York: \”Miss Piggy.\”
Me: Awkward silence….
Me: (Looking at my wife:) \”I need a ruling on this – am I allowed to say she\’s supposed to marry a boy? What are you supposed to say these days?\”
Wife: \”So you\’re more offended that she would marry a girl than a pig?\”
After that, she and I practiced bouncing quarters off of a table into a cup. I figured this is genius on my part – I mean, when she\’s doing it in college, why not have her be the best in the world? We always played that the guy who makes it into the cup had to make other people drink – so if she\’s the Tiger Woods of playing quarters, she should never touch a drop of liquor, right? Daddy\’s looking out for her best interests. Brilliant. She has about 15 years to perfect it.
Later in the day, we were watching a basketball game and she said it was the \”black guys against the white guys.\” After dislodging the Cheeto from my windpipe, I said \”WHAT?\” I then realized it was Iowa (black jerseys) playing Indiana (white jerseys). I felt much better knowing I didn\’t have a three year old Marge Schott running around the house.