Apparently my time in England left its largest mark on my uterus, where Will apparently soaked up a large dose of Britain in utero.
He calls fries ‘chips.’ Never mind the fact that no one in our life does that, never mind the fact that we call them fries…he ALWAYS calls them chips. Like we can be in the car sharing a carton of french fries and I’ll hand two back to Will saying “here’s two fries—one for you and one for Ellie” and 5 seconds later as they eat their fries I’ll hear “do you like your chips, Ellie? I think chips are tasty.”
And he adores tea. I frequently hear “can I have some fox trot tea please?” (one of the herbal teas I have). And if given the choice between tea and hot chocolate, he chooses tea.
That kid is so British it freaks me out.
