A few weeks ago we were out running errands. [Of course. This is what parents do. Nobody ever says, “Oh yes, if it was Wednesday we were jetting off for Europe between school dropoff and speech therapy.”]
I got myself a latte or a cappucino (I forget which), and naturally he petitioned for some. I promised him the end and passed him what was essentially the dregs and a bunch of foam. I had to take the top off for him to get the full experience, and although he did not stick his fingers into the foam–which is totally what I expected–he managed spread coffee flecked milk bits around the lower half of his face.
“Oh, AM,” I said, “there’s coffee all over your face!”
“It’s ok, Ema,” my formerly speech delayed sprite told me. “I lick it.”