I wasn't feeling well last night, so my husband offered to get some take-out for dinner. He then asked our five year old son what he wanted to eat. Our son replied, "Pasketti." Then he corrected himself and said, "No, no, not pasketti. Sasketti." And again, "No! Not sasketti. I want Spapetti." We were just sitting there, waiting for him to come up with the right word, when he walked over to my husband and said, "Dad, I want chicken."
bunburyist
I chalk just about every physical symptom up to anxiety. I'm thinking my gravestone will read: "She thought it was a panic attack."