This morning, in a typical busy mom moment, I absent mindedly said "yes" to some question he asked me, brows knit in anxiety.
Later, I found out that I had said "yes" to "Do pineapples rock?" when he asked me a second time. I took the pineapple from the counter and put it on the table, showing him that the bottom of the pineapple is not even so when I first set it down, it rocks. He drew back in fear, pulling his plate and cup off the table to get as far from this fearsome fruit as possible. Totally confused, I tried over and over to explain how a pineapple rocks, putting it closer and closer to him, but his terror was palpable as he stared wide eyed at the bromeliad's bottom.
Because the real question was, "Do pineapples WALK?"
