Beaten At My Own Game
Last night my oldest son asked me, "Dad, where's the Red Square?" I quickly answered, "Moscow," but I could see he was confused, so I added, "Russia."
More confusion. It took me a moment, but eventually I realized that he's two years old. He was missing a shape for his shape sorter. So, I used my fatherly tone and asked, "Oh, you mean your red cube?"
"Red square?"
"Red cube, son," I said, glancing around for his cube. "I don't know, buddy. Maybe it's in Moscow."
His confusion quickly faded. I knew something was coming. Then, he bellowed, “Mooooo!!” as only a true Moss Cow could.