Isabella: Cora, think of something to ask Google.
Cora: Shamrock paper.
Isabella: No, it has to be a question.
Cora: Shamrock paper!
Isabella: A question! But not something like when are mom or dad going to die. Google’s not a doctor….
Dad, can I call you mom for short?
Let’s sit at the table and talk about Smores. Maybe that will get mom and dad interested.
Mom, I love little cakes. They taste like heaven. Unless they use poop as an artificial ingredient. Who wants poop with sprinkles?
I love those 2 silly girls!!