pants on fire

I was making mini pizzas for the girls, using some shredded mozzarella I'd had in the freezer. Unable to resist, Ella stole a few shreds. "That tastes rotten!" 

"It's not rotten," I explained. "It's still frozen." 

Before I knew it, she was sneaking a fistful. "Hey!" I scolded. "I thought you said it was rotten?"

"I meant . . . rotten in a good way."

I'd promised Ella and Lauren an ice cream sandwich for dessert. But before I could even get the dishes cleared I caught Lauren peeling open an apple sauce cup. "Is that your dessert?" I asked. 

She paused for a second, then cheerfully explained, "I was just getting this for Ella." She thrust her arm toward her sister, who looked very confused. "Here, Ella!"