"You want trail mix, Mommy?"
"No, Kaelyn. You eat it."
"Some wasins? You want some wasins?"
"No, hun. I don’t want any raisins, either."
"You want the em-nems? The red ooooooone and the yeddow oooooooone and the greem oooooooone? Mom, you want the…hey…you cryin’, Mama? You sad? Don’t cry, Mama, don’t cry. I kiss it make it better. Here – you want the cho-co-lit? Want the penis?"
"The what? Oh, you mean the peanuts."