(YESTERDAY) ME: Angels we have heard on high, sweetly singing o'er the plains, and the mountains in reply, echo back their joyous strains.
TALA: OOOOOOOOooooOOOOOOOOOOOooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-reo, in ex-sell-sis deo, OOOOOOOooooOOOOOOOOOOoooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOreo...
ME: *snickering quietly* Tala baby, it's not Oreo, it's Glo-ri-a.
Tala: Ohhhh, I fought dey were saying Oreo. Oh well.
