“Mommy, let’s play a game. When I say ABC, you tickle Badger.”
Scene: very early morning. We are downstairs, watching TV and eating Cheerios. I attempt to sneak upstairs to make coffee.
“Mommy, I coming with you.”
“Can I pick you up?”
“How about you walk? You’re getting to be an awfully big girl.”
“I not a big girl. I just a little girl. You big.”
Yes, I picked her up and carried her up the stairs.
(Hello, I’m back! Decided to come back to my original intent and make this my personal brag book on my exceptional, rocket scientist child. I expect this to last approximately 3-5 posts before I go back to whining about all the various non-problems I have.)