About 2 weeks ago we were in downtown (near Qwest field) and Abby shouts,
A FLYING POCK!
If any of you have seen the north end of the stadium and the HUGE image of a brown raptor head you will have been witness to the flying pock.
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blief 
OK. I give up. What’s a “Pock”?
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See.
Easy. 🙂
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Alright. I get it!
I admit I can be kinda dense sometimes — if you don’t believe me just ask Grandma!
Maybe I should worry about which language you are teaching that “poor little” girl! On the other hand, maybe it’s genetic: I remember when I was in the 4th or 5th grade and we were taking turns reading out loud. I came to the word “ingredients” and pronounced it “ingnrients” — I had always read to myself and that’s how I read it! When the class started giggling and the teacher woke up to “maybe something’s going on here!”, she had me reread that paragraph and I didn’t catch on then until she had me re-read ‘that word’.
Oh me oh my!!
Now you know why I became “Grumpy”.
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