Our little 37-month-old is easy to please...
She had a runny nose, so I grabbed a handkerchief from Dad's pile and handed it to her. "Look, Mommy! The handkerchief even has a hole so I can stick my finger through it!"
Great feature, those holes. Now I know what to do with all the raggedy things.
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It's not enough to be a fire fighter. She's going to be a fire TRUCK fighter. Bad things, those fire trucks...
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Every so often we get into a profound discussion on love:
Esmé: I only love Mommy!
Daddy: Why?
Esmé: Because I farted.
Daddy: What does that have to do with love?
Esmé: Love is something you share with everybody.
Daddy: And farting is something you share with everybody?
Esmé: Yeah.
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We've been studying whales, and part of that study is about Jonah. We talked about how Jonah disobeyed God and got "timeout" in a big fish to think about things.
Mom: Would you like to have timeout in the belly of a big fish?!
Esmé: No! I would like timeout in a castle!
Me too, baby girl. Me too...
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Here's Bambi for ya, playing in her meadow and showing off her antlers:
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