As we were eating our McD’s ice cream cones in the parked Scion, trying to figure out where to go next, Bray unbelts & takes a deep breath,
“I know! A PIGNA!”
I knew exactly what he meant but just smiled and said, “What?”
“I mean… a PIGNIT!”
This time he knew he was saying it right. He wanted to get out, sit on the grassy patch in front of us, and eat our ice cream cones by a tree in the sun. a.k.a: a picnic.
There are just some words that are too damn cute that even after 6 & a half years, you can’t bring yourself to correct.