Today my daughter ran up to me as I was messing around on my computer. She was brandishing the two Care Bear plush toys that she's had for at least a year, but for which she has only recently developed an inexplicable fondness.
"Daddy, daddy," she says.
"Emily, Emily," I wittily reply.
"Fi dollars" she barks at me, like a drill sergeant giving orders. She's waving the bears, at arms' length on either side of her.
"What?"
"Fi dollars!"
"Are you trying to sell me your two Care Bears for five dollars?"
"Uh-huh," like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"I don't know, baby, those bears look kind of worn. I'll give you three dollars."
"Nuh-uh. Fi dollars." At this point Emily kneels down and puts the bears face-down on the carpet, rubbing their noses into it. Maybe she's trying to extol their many uses, one of which is apparently "household cleaning implement."
"No, five dollars is too much."
Then my wife starts laughing her ass off from the kitchen, and Emily walks away, having lost all interest in haggling. This ain't the county fair, she's got serious business to conduct.
It's just as well, I guess. I don't have any cash on me and Emily doesn't take debit cards.
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