This five-year old girl wandered over to our yard to play yesterday and we got to talking.
I asked, So do you have any brothers or sisters?
Yeah. I have a brother, but he's really sick. Like, really, really sick. You know the kind of sick where you die? Umm, I can't remember what his sickness is called though...but I know that it makes you die.
(I'm thinking, cancer? And I was really sad. Because having a sick brother who is going to die has got to be tough.)
Then she says,
Oh! Yeah! I remember! It's called DIahrrea!
Gold medal for my effort in keeping a straight face?