Bon Appetit

This morning I got up late (thank Heaven for summer time and children that respect their parents' sleepiness--generally). I walked out for some reason assuming that I was the first one up to be welcomed by S and R.
S had somehow sawed an orange in half with a butter knife (the only kind she is allowed to use). She brought it daintily out, set it on the table and sweetly said, "Bon Appetit, R."

I am not sure where she learned that. I have likely said it all of ten times in the last year. Maybe I should start saying it more. Then it will be the garnish of the meal (instead of parsley on the plate--which has never been there :)).

Later we were talking about a dear sister in our ward that is expecting triplets and that she has to stay inside her apartment so the babies can grow more, then they asked me if I had to do that when I was pregnant with them. I told them I did with S (which made her smile proudly) but not with R or T. R gasped, then pronounced loudly, "I am so glad I am not pregnant or a girl!"

A few minutes after this he said something like, "S, when you get married and are pregnant, your husband will take care of you."