One of the sad things about watching children grow up is watching the cute things they say disappear. The other day Rowan surprised me by asking for yogurt. She had never pronounced it correctly, and I thought her calling it yo-grit was unbearably cute so I left it. Alas, preschool taught her how to say it correctly.
Her other word is vy-genna, and she hasn’t figured out out to say that one either. As in, “Abby put wood chips down my butt and sand in my vy-genna.” I’m pretty sure that’s a bit of exaggeration, and not that her playground is acting out Chained Heat. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she knows how to say it before sex ed.