Mia spent all morning whining at me about something. I couldn't figure out what it was, she kept saying "Mia something" and I couldn't understand her, had no idea what that second word could be. It didn't help that she was employing the famous toddler method of speaking in a tone of voice that makes everything unintelligible and, as a bonus, after a while makes you want to rip your own arm off and beat yourself to death with it.
I kept trying to reason with her, telling her that Mama couldn't understand her because she was whining and that if she would just speak to me in her regular voice I might have a fighting chance to figure out whatever the hell she had been going on about for three hours. She kept whining, and I kept cajoling and lecturing and begging her to either enunciate or get over herself already. No luck, no joy. I did finally figure it out though.
She was saying "Mia whining."