And his name just happens to start with the letter L. How "yucky" for him.

On Christmas Day, my sweet, patient cousin, Christine, was physically attacked by my children. They all decided that what Chrissy needed most for Christmas was some serious love and they gave it to her. If one of them wasn't sitting on her lap, one was asking her to play with them, or showing her their bedrooms, or shoving toys in her face. As a mother, I see it as payback for all the times my little cousins attacked me when I was 16. Chrissy was one of those cousins, but as a little girl, she never attacked. She was sweet and calm and I loved her little chubby cheeks.

As you might expect, there was a little issue when it came time to eat because L, O and K all wanted to sit next to her. L was the winner. As he finished his food, he leaned over and put his arm around Chrissy's shoulder and said, "This is the yucky seat because it's next to you."

Chrissy's face was a little confused and I could hear the confusion in her voice as she said, "Why?"

"Because," he answered, "It's next to you and you are great."

"But, you told me I'm yucky."

I was listening to this conversation and I was ready to pull Mr. L off his chair and into the other room to have a chat about polite behavior.

L shook his head, "No, not yucky I said yucky!

And then it hit me, he didn't say yucky, he was trying to say, "lucky."

I explained to Christine and she laughed, but L shook his head and said, "I don't yike it when everybody says I say one thing when I'm not saying that thing at all. Don't you yisten to me?"

Yes, I think it might be time for some speech therapy.