Sometimes the wires get crossed

I've written about some of the obvious signs that I should have noticed earlier; signs that I'm a raving pregnant woman, and thus, my erratic actions are completely normal. One more that I've noted is my obsession with matzo ball soup. Because it is very pregnant of me to crave Jewish food like I will absolutely die if I can't have some bagel with lox already. It's a three times proven pregnancy symptom of mine.

And so the other evening, the kids and I were making the matzo balls, which means that I was making them and they were just kind of mucking around in the matzo mix. Don't you want to come to our house for dinner now? I promise that we washed our hands.

Kid-A then asked me, "Is this going to be enough matzo carnage?"

I paused in my ball rolling and stared at him. "Matzo what?"

He looked back at me, a little hesitantly, but still fairly sure. "Matzo carnage. You know, what you make matzo balls out of. Carnage is something you make bread and cookies and matzo balls out of."

I resumed rolling. "I'm not totally sure, Kid-A, but I think the word you're looking for may be dough."