Talula asks her Papa. “What? You mean ‘well done’?” he asks. “Yes, why did you say ‘well done’?”
{ME: snickering not so quietly in the background. On a good day my daughter can be quite challenging to my father – because she is a chatter box, and well, he is not, not even remotely. Small talk may actually be physically painful for him.}
“Well, it’s another way of saying ‘good job’ and I thought that you had done really well sprinkling the Parmesan on your pasta.”
“Oh.”
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I could not help but laugh out loud. My parents are definitely of the generation where praise was the way to go, and it seems praise may be lost on Talula at least (yay).
