We haven’t encountered a ‘Jameson-ism’ in quite some time.  For those who aren’t familiar with the term, my 10-year old son has a way with committing the most hilarious word faux pas.  It’s been a while, but the boy produced a doozy tonight!

I served fish tacos for dinner this evening: spinach tortillas stuffed with blackened tilapia, cilantro slaw, and an amazing lime cream sauce.  This was served alongside tortilla chips (flaxseed-veggie tortilla chips for Mama) and guacamole.  Yum!

The dinner was well-liked by the whole family, even my picky eaters heartily dove in. We made the usual dinner conversation, and as the meal was coming to a close, I noticed my son acting a bit… peculiar.  He was nibbling at what was left of his fish taco: a shell with a few shreds of cabbage sticking out.

“What are you doing, buddy?” I asked slightly confused.  He had been all about this dinner a few minutes earlier, but was now picking at the remnants as if they disgusted him.

“Really good tacos tonight, Mama, but… uh, I…”  <sigh> “…I really don’t like the sloth.”

My husband and I did everything in our power to hold back the laughs.  “Uh, don’t you mean slaw, Jameson?”