When the bill came, the standard drill proceeded. I pulled a yuppie food stamp out of my wallet and gave it to B, who paired it with one from hers. Since no self-respecting two year old can help but take interest in things being handed back and forth in front of him, he reached over to his mum and took both bills. He sat back, holding one in each hand and shook them in triumph. Then it was time to look at his treasure to determine what he had wrought.
As he held the bills in front of him, I asked, "What you got, there, M?" He looked up at me briefly, but said nothing, so I thought I’d help. "That there’s filthy lucre... Can you say filthy lucre?"
He placed the cash on the table side by side and said triumphantly, "Two filty lucres!" Paul laughed. Brenda was vaguely scandalized.
As though teaching him, "He is VIGO!" wasn't bad enough. I am now officially a bad influence.