My daughter, reciting a long-standing children's rhyme: One, two, buckle my shoe.
Three, four, shut the door.
Me: Nice.
Five, six, pick up sticks.
Seven, eight, lay them straight.
Me: For sure. Gotta organize 'em.
Nine, ten, a big hat fen.
Me: (Raises eyebrows)
Her: It's a kind of chicken, daddy. A hat fen.
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