Luke-isms

My wet flip flops squeaked across the floor as Luke and I exited the indoor pool area at the Y and walked into the locker room. Careful measures were taken in packing and would be taken again in the drying off/clothes changing process to ensure bare feet never touched the nasty floor. I decided to get Luke dressed first. After all, he was more likely to commit a hygienic error.

I got him dressed and stood him on the bench next to me. Now, it was my turn to get dressed. Against my wishes Luke began walking along the bench and opening various vacant lockers. He stopped at one in particular and stuck his head inside. After a deep inhale, he replied, “Oh, Mommy! It smells dewiscious!” Somehow I doubted that. Nothing in the YMCA locker room ever smells dewiscious.

I thought back to the evening before when we sat down for dinner. I placed a plate of pot roast in front of Luke as he exclaimed, “It smells dewiscious.” At the time I thought it was a sweet complement, but in the wake of the locker room incident, I’m not so sure.