I wonder if this is a common toddler story…

Kathryn, Iris, and I are enjoying our nice Labor Day dinner on our newly finished deck improvements outside. We’re all talking to one another and at one point Iris looks at me and says “Momma” (which she does every now and then – she calls Momma “Dadda” sometimes, too.) So, Momma corrects her by saying to her, “No, he’s Dadda; I’m Momma”. Iris turns to me with a jubilant look on her face and cries out “DADDA!” To match her mood, I cry out “EUREKA!” And she replies, “No, I’m Iris; you’re Dadda!”

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