The three of us are having dinner tonight at Zen. Or, as Besh calls it, the Special Macaroni Place.
He looks up at the TV–Dallas playing Arizona–and yells “Yay Texas!”
Mommy: “Besh, use your inside voice please.”
Besh: “YAAAY TEXAS!”
Mommy: “Inside voice, please. You don’t want to be rude to the other people.”
Besh: “Just two people.”
He’s referring to the only other two people in the restaurant, in the booth in front of us. Who, coincidentally, stand up to leave.
Besh: “There they go. YAAAAAAYYYYY TEXXXASSSSSSSS!!!”
