Yesterday in the car I was bubbling on about Natty's birthday and she said thoughtfully, "I don't know if I'm ready to be 5."
Seems a big step when you've been 4 for a whole year, doesn't it?
Last week, half-asleep from a nap-gone-bad, she wailed, "Why does the Christmas pageant have to be about baby Jesus?! I mean, he's just a baby - nothing special. Why can't it be about something exciting, like Noah's ark or Jonah and the whale?"
(Picture this said in her hand-waving, expressive way - I was hard pressed not to laugh out loud.)
I didn't get into too much theology - she wasn't in an, ahem, receptive frame of mind. Not receptive to anything. We just had to wait the drama out.
Not to forget Sam:
Tired at a Christmas Eve party, Sam saw me, tilted precariously out of a friends arms and wailed, "Mamaaaa!"
That melts me.
He blows kisses, but doesn't actually "blow" the kiss -
he just puts his hand over his mouth, kisses it while looking at the recipient, and giggles.
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