“Oh and my Dad only eats oats for breakfast.”
“We have some.”
“What really?” I ask, suspiciously. “Where?”
“I don’t know, in a box somewhere.”
“Oats, not barley.”
“Yes, oats.”
“Oatmeal oats.”
“Yes,” he replies, exasperated.
“Goldilocks oatmeal oats?” I press further, now teasing.
“I’m sorry, did you say ‘goats’? Your father only eats ‘goats’ for breakfast? Or was it boats?”
“Actually it was ‘stoats’,” I retort.
Pause.
“Stoats are a kind of weasel.”
“How do you even know that?”
Then we watch a National Geographic video about how stoats kill rabbits.
Learn Through It 
Fabulous!! Love the rhymes, the playful and loving conversation!
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Ha ha! We’re never without oatmeal here! But often without goats and stoats.
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This post = exhibit #1 for “how to know when you’ve been married long enough but not too long yet”. ❤
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