Quinn learned about poison apples from, none other than, Walt Disney, so now if she doesn't like the taste of something she is drinking (or if she just wants me to go up stairs AGAIN at bedtime), she tells me in a creepy, scared, slow voice, "This is poison water." Dear me.
Somehow today she had this memory of some times of old at our home, and she told me in that same creepy, scared, slow voice, "This is soy milk, mommy."
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