This morning, I made Rachel some breakfast in bed.  This almost always consists of toast, a fried egg and a small glass of orange juice.  This morning hash-browns were a last minute substitue for the toast.  Despite a sippy-cup full of his own OJ, Miles generally insists on drinking some...if not, all...of Mommy's juice.  So it was no surprise this morning for Miles to grab the glass of juice off of Mommy's bedside table and quickly dispatch it.

Mommy (glaring at Miles): "Did you drink all of Mommy's juice?"

Miles: "Stinker.  Goofball."

In cell-phone terms, you might call this "predictive text."