Dip dip dip, dip dip di-dip...

I want to share something with you that my two-year old said to me yesterday.

She said : "Daddy, I have ketchup in my hair".

It took me a little while to figure it out, but that's because a few minutes earlier we were busy watching "Sleeping Beauty", and it was right at the end of the movie where everyone is waltzing, so she asked me to pick her up and dance with her (which I love doing).

...and as I was holding her hand whirling her round (because you have to do it like they're doing on-screen), I whimsically turned her upside down and told her I was dipping her.

Which I did.

And then, after I put her down, about a minute later, she told me about the ketchup in her hair.

Oddly enough there was no ketchup in her hair, but she kept insisting that there was, without embellishing or adding to the claim, and she hadn't had any ketchup with her supper.

So, dutiful daddy that I am, I chcked her out quite thoroughly and it was while I was doing this that I realized that in her vocabulary there's currently only one entry listed under "dip", and it has nothing to do with dancing.

Either that or my little french fry has already started messing with my mind and is out-punning me at the tender age of two.

I'm so proud I could cry, and those of you who know me will understand why.