Clara loves ketchup. Seriously. She loves it. She will eat lots of things but on meatloaf night or french fry night, her love of ketchup is revealed by her baby warrior cry of: "Kepit!"
Clara has no trouble pronouncing any other words. Even (I would think) hard words like: butterfly, zebra, stinky butt, and purple. Clara clearly thinks that ketchup has been horribly misnamed. To her, that sweet, red ambrosia is Kepit.
Has a nice ring to it. I would like some kepit on my hamburger. Please pass the kepit. Maybe Clara is starting a new trend. Kepit will replace salsa as the national condiment.
Also, Clara refers to Sour Cream and Greek Yogurt both as "Ice Cream." She loves to eat both, and will crow for more "Ice Cream" if she runs out.
That's fine, Clara...you go on thinking that's what ice cream is. I've got no problem with that.
|Clara, post lunch. A tiny dab of kepit on her cheek.|