Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Her, matter of fact-like: Mama, I'm spelling s-e-x. That spells sex.
Me, horrified: Say what, Small Fry? Are you trying to spell six, like the number? Please God, let her be spelling six like the number.
Her: No, sex like sexy. Oh no.
Me: What is sexy, Small Fry? What does that mean?
Her: You knnnnnoooowwww, like when you're all pretty with red lips and you're sparkly and you're wearing fancy clothes and like that. Waves hand vaguely in front of her face.
Me, later: And where did you hear about sexy, honey?
Her: Duh, mom. The cheer? Boys are the strongest? Girls are the sexiest?
Me, later, lame-like: Yeah, of course you know girls can be the strongest too.
Her: Yeah, of course I know that mama.
Annnnddddd I have nothing more to say. Continue eating taco salad and mourn the loss of innocence.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Numero uno: Memories of Halloween. One of the
best nights of the year. And the seemingly unending supply of
Reese's pb cups and Hershey's dark chocolate that now
Numero duo: MY 4-year-old, that's right, MINE...who was possibly the only one in her class (at least that's how I heard the it) who knew the names of both presidential candidates. And their platforms. And their voting records. OK, maybe not. But she can pick them out of a line-up from a distance of 10 feet and that's
Numero three: The mental prep my girls are doing to be sure they are prepared for long lines tomorrow. We have listed all items we will bringing to the voting place (Harry Potter book, a Barbie computer, drawing papers, Uno, fold up chairs and a pen. And possibly candy.) And we have figured out a plan for what we'll do if we need to visit the potty during our wait in line (we will go with our sister while mom holds our place in line). If you see us there, please feel free to
in a game
Number Four: Lunch. Friends. Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion, honey.
Number 5: Coming home hugs and kisses from this one. Ahhhh.