“At school today me and Eloise were pretending to die, and Winnie was helping us SO SO FAST, and then Eloise’s dad came and we DIED, and he pretended to be sad.” — Annie
at the dinner table
Paul: I’m a grown-up.
Bryan: You look like a kid.
Paul: No, I growed up.
Leslie: You growed up at school today?
Paul: Yes, I DID growed up.
Annie: Paul, you’re very very little.
Paul: No, I’m VERY VERY BIG. SEE? My legs are SO LONG.
Bryan and I spent a lot of time and care with the kids tonight, executing the bedtime routine with precision and hanging around to chat and cuddle, to make sure they were comfortable in their big-kid beds and—most importantly—not going to pop right out of them the moment we closed the door.
Looking up at it, Annie told me how much she liked the big yellow A that hangs over her bed, and I told her I remembered getting it.
“It was before you were born, but I knew we wanted to name you ‘Annie.'”
She cupped my face in her hands and confided, “I wanted to name you ‘Mom.’ … Who named you ‘Mom?'”
With studious practice, Annie’s knowledge of the lyrics has improved.
2017: Jingle bells, jingle bells, ALL the way. (repeat)
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.
How much fun it is tonight
With our sleighed-on friends and say, HEY!
They dance, too. (Annie: Is this how ballerinas dance? Paul: I’m a ballerino!)
Annie’s first words in the morning as Bryan and I enter the room:
(singing) “The wheels on the bus go T U V…” —Paul
“I want my door closed because I want it closed beCAUSE.” —Paul
“Busy is the kind of thing that you’re very.” —Annie
Paul said, like, three priceless things on the way home from school today, and I tried so hard to remember them. But now after bedtime, the only one that stuck is, “I let out a biiiig toot.”
Immediately I have said goodnight and closed the door:
I open the door—Yes?
Annie: What happens if a bear loves eating mustard?