"When is the baby going to drop out? I will catch him and put him in his crib." There's one home-birth advocate.
During a dinner conversation Paul and I forgot she was at, "I don't know that word. What is 'die'?" I have never been so happy for the universal "not it" sign.
"When I grow up I am going to be the person sitting at the high chair at the pool." She has observed the power of the whistle first hand and covets control over all little people.
Paul tripped and sprained his ankle last weekend and Kate was there for it. She tells me, "I'm not going to be a Daddy. I'm going to be a Mommy when I grow up so I don't trip and get a boo boo." Smart girl.
No comments:
Post a Comment