There was a message on my cell phone this afternoon.
Apparently, Bud was at home negotiating with Nana about whether or not he could have a Weight Watcher's cookie, or "Watcher Cookie," in Bud-speak. Nana wasn't sure if he'd already had a cookie at lunch, and told him that he'd need to call and get my approval before she'd hand over the goods.
The message on my phone sounded something like this:
"Hi, Mom. I was just wondering, could I have a Watcher Cookie?" Pause, pause, pause. "I can? Oh, thank you, Mom!"
I heard the strains of Nana's voice in the background before the call disconnected: "Wait a minute, are you talking to Mom or did you get her machine? She needs to tell ME that it's okay. Bud, give me the..." Click.
Okay, I'll grant you, it lacks integrity.
But my kid is BRILLIANT.