Bears Eat Pizza

Being a mom to twin toddlers and a newborn certainly has its challenges. It's the perfect mix of good and bad, amazing and frustrating, smooth and rocky. I would rather laugh hysterically like a maniacal lunatic than drown in the river of my own endless tears from the pure exhaustion of parenting. Add in the fact of being a working mom, and you've got the recipe for sheer chaos some days.

I know that children's personalities are shaped by a combination of factors like genetics, environmental and daily exposures. Perhaps my all-too-often guffaws are why my twins are genius in the sense of imaginative, creative, astounding and unique beings. They come up with the craziest phrases and have the most profound conversations daily. Several days ago, while making dinner, I learned that bears eat pizza.

---

Z: mommy, there's two pizzas in there.

Me: yes there are.

D: brudder, there's one for mommy and daddy and they gon' cut it in half and the udder one is for you and me and we gon' cut it in half. Baby brudder doesn't eat pizza, only milk. Only big kids eat pizza. And bears. Bears eat pizza.

---

So, there you have it. Apparently, bears eat pizza. I wonder if they like pepperoni or prefer plain cheese.