It's Wike Apple Juice

Laundry is boring, so it was a change of pace to get some entertainment while matching socks this morning. Owen came into my bedroom and informed me:

"Mama, come quick. Dere's a quicket in the kitchen. Fust, I smacked it hawd. Den, it was dead. Den, some juice came out. Den, I get two papuh towels so I can get it. Come see it!"

"Juice, huh? Is it the cricket's blood?"

"Nope. It's dah yellow part, wike apple juice. It's wike apple juice."

"Okay, boy. I'll be there in a minute."

I tried not to look as he gave a play-by-play of the disposal, complete with descriptions of cricket limbs coming off of the body.

(Boys sure are curious creatures. Katie would die before she'd even get near cricket juice.)