“Foreheads look like chicken patties.” —Annie
“Sometimes when I push on my eyes, I pretend they’re marshmallows.” —Annie
Paul is working on his adverbs. My current favorite is “probably,” which he pronounces “PRODably.”
“When I grow up, I want to be a teacher, and when I’m a grown-up teacher, I want my name to be Elsa.” —Annie
“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.
To concerned parties, an update: the big-kid beds are a huge success so far, and kids have remained in them like docile lambs until their reverse-alarm clock turns green at 7am. After confiding her fear that scary monsters would have easier access to her, Annie bounded out of bed the first morning and reported cheerfully, “Nothing ate me!”
On January 1, 2019, Annie climbed out of her crib, walked over to Paul’s, and coached him through his own first exit. We intercepted them, giggling, on their way to the door.
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