Have you ever wondered whose job it is to come up with the kids’ meal toys? Like we got a collection of some weird stuff. At one point McDonalds was giving away witches to little girls, which I thought was an interesting idea. We have about 9 million Chick-Fil-A board books, which I personally think are the jewels of our assortment, and I have (I admit with great reluctance) liked the little funky American Idol dolls that play a blurb of music when you put the microphone to their mouths (and there’s no shortage of YouTube videos on these guys if you want to check them out).

Yesterday, the girls decided to check out our latest addition – a Chick-Fil-A cd that is going to teach them Russian. I was, of course, thrilled and instantly entertained the notion that this enrichment to their education was going to catapult them to the top of their respective classes (3K and first grade). I was happy to start the cd for them and proudly left them to their language studies.

From the kitchen, I could hear Carson attempting to repeat the phrases the polite, monotone lady pronounced. And then…

Campbell: Momma, Carson throw the stool at me.
Carson: She liked it, Momma.
Campbell: Momma, her throw the stool at me. Her not being nice.
Carson: You’re just trying to tell on me…

Needless to say, my visions of scholarly success shattered and scattered across the kitchen floor. Chris walked in from work as I was (with an amused smirk) collecting the debris of my disillusionment. He asked Carson, “How was field day?”

“Da,” she replies, which to my wild delight means yes in Russian. Maybe my hopes were not at all misplaced … 🙂