"Mommy, you know that place, the fac-orie, where my underwear are made by ma-sha-sheens?"
If you don't speak toddler-going-on-four-year-old, he means the factory with machines that makes his underwear.
After a few moments of repeating that sentence in a dozen different ways and getting interrupted a few times by his little brother, his thoughts took a different direction:
"You know, the fac-orie that makes chocolate."
"What?" I say, half smiling to myself, "The factory makes chocolate underwear?"
"No!" He gasps in annoyance, geez mom, keep up! , "There are two fac-ories. The one makes my underwear, big ma-sha-sheens make them and into boxes and then out the fac-orie and they go to the sto-war, and that's where we buy them."
"Oh, what about the chocolate factory?" I ask, because we all know moms are much more interested in chocolate factories than little boys underwear factories. (or maybe that's just me...)
"They make chocolates, and sometimes brownies, and sometimes more chocolates."
"Oh, but no chocolate underwear?" Trying to tease a smile out of him, because even if your not an adult chocolate underwear should be funny.
He paused for a moment, all serious like, "No, mommy. They don't."
Well, ok then.
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