Annie to her music box, as she pulls the string, “Alexa! Turn on Let It Go.”
The kids are in the bathtub, and Annie is teaching Paul how to gargle.
Annie thinks that three-leaf clovers are the special ones, and we have the luckiest yard on earth.
The American Girl doll catalog arrived unbidden at our house, and I watched Annie enjoy it in precisely the same way as I enjoy CB2 and Design Within Reach. She is blissfully ignorant that the content is for sale.
[Annie, 45 minutes after bedtime. Her 3rd appearance at her door, and perhaps the 10th time we’ve intervened since 7:30.]
Annie: Mom, can I have one more question?
Me: Annie, I’m really disappointed to see you out of bed. This is the time to be resting our bodies.
Annie: But Mom, I needed to tell you that Paul shared some of his lovies with me.
Me: Okay, but I don’t understand why you needed to get out of bed and tell me that, or—Paul shouldn’t be—he shouldn’t be out of bed either, even sharing lovies.
Annie: But Mom, I just wanted to tell you about kindness.
Me, with a softer tone: Oh gosh, Annie. I do, I do like hearing about kindness. But—
Annie: And it’s a dog family. Okay, goodnight.
Annie: Mom, do you know who I love the most?
Annie: My whole family.
Me: That’s LOVELY, Annie. Goodnight.
[10 minutes later, still listening to them chatter]
text message from our deck contractor:
Jesus is coming by Sunday to excavate under your house.
Have a great weekend!
Paul wants to know, “Is every single thing in the world a shape?”
Overheard from my work-from-home desk.
Annie, in crisis: Oh NO!!
Bryan, soothing: Oh Paul, that’s Annie’s toy.
Paul, explaining calmly with 3-yo logic: No, see, but I WANT it.
The scene: in the bathroom, a mother attempts to get her 5-going-on-15-year-old daughter to stop playing and start the bedtime routine.
Mother, chipper: As you know, Annie, tomorrow’s another home day, so we’ll have lots of time for that later.
Daughter, with pathos: Well as you know, Mom, I hate doing things LATER!!!
(Daughter storms off and flings herself on the bed.)
On our walk this morning, Annie told me she had an idea for Sous’ next birthday present. Earnestly:
“Come here so she doesn’t hear!”
I bend down to the stroller to receive this secret. Lips against my ear:
“It’s a—what’s her favorite color?”
“I don’t know, she’s a… Um, red?”
“It’s a RED, CHEWY STICK!!”