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Please don't ask my kids about the president. Don't even utter the words president, Barack, or Obama.
After we laid the kids down to bed tonight, and all was mostly quiet, DH came racing down the hallway to grab me from the living room. He was laughing hysterically and silently all at once. As we tiptoed down to Lillian's room, he explained breathlessly that she was talking to herself.
"Why is President Obama brown? Because Gramma Pamma pooped on him."
We obviously have some exposure issues and we need to spend a little more time outside of our almost completely caucasian community. I am shaking my head as I write this.
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Once Jacob didn't want to eat food from a drive thur because the man was black and he said he was dirty and got his food all dirty. It is all about exposure. That is too funny.
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