You serenaded me with an unrecognizable song.
You did downward dogs on Granny's mat on the front lawn...
shouting "Namaste" to neighbors and the house sparrows who fluttered by.
You've asked for an icey pop about 30 times. For the record, it is 2:02PM and
I've yet to give in to your demands. Go me.
When coaching you in gymnastics, I convinced you to sit on my lap for a few
fleeting moments, and I called you my baby and the prettiest girl in the world.
You got dressed for the day at about 11Am. It was a cute button-up dress and remarkably,
you put it on with the buttons up the back, not the front.
I'm still not sure how you succeeded in doing this.
Then, you ate your lunch naked because we didn't want to ruin your pretty dress.
Now your body and mouth are both stained in tomato sauce red.
So, to compliment the face stains, I painted your toes hot pink.
No hairdo yet - it is wild and free, just like you.
You waved goodbye to the big schoolbus driver this morning.
And didn't welcome Dec off the bus this afternoon. Instead, when he dared to touch the cup
of chocolate milk on the outside table on the way into the house after school, you
greeted him with an enthusiastic and fierce: "my chocolate milk, Dec that is MY CHOCOLATE MILK PUT IT...DOWN DECKY!!!!"
and you tried to hit him in the head with a red wooden block (but missed, thankfully).
Oh Nonie.
Oh Nonie.
Nonie Nonie Nonie.
So far
today.
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