Emma has been trying to master her (butter) knife skills so she asked me if she could butter my roll for me at dinner. When she handed it back to me I thanked her. Her response?
"Oh shucks, you don't have to thank me."
I looked over at her expecting her to have a piece of hay hanging from her mouth but it was still full of chicken pot pie. As long as she doesn't start dipping tobacco and humming Deliverance, I'm happy.
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