Little conversations

I am sitting my desk today (I share my office with the kids playroom... fun, right?) and I see Jack crawling around with a stick of chalk, red drool on his face and a giant smile. I take it away and wipe him up. You see the chalk in our house is contained in a sealer container... unless certain little girls leave it open.

After bubba is wiped and stripped of his prize chalk I go to remind the girls that they need to seal their chalk when done. The conversation goes something like this:

Me: Girls I want you to know that because you did not put your chalk away your brother ate a hunk of your chalk.

Grace: (In a rapid, stressed pace) Oh no, did you get it? Is he sick? Will he be okay? Will he die? Are you mad?

Abby: What color chalk?

Thank you Abigail, for your genuine concern for your brother. :D