Brinley struts out of the house in nothing but undies and shoes.
“I’m wearing my naked dress!”
I pick some cereal from a high shelf as requested by Brin.
“Thanks, Dad! You’re the heaviest one ever.”
Brinley asks Mommy, “Was packing boring?”
Sarah responds, “Well, it wasn’t my favorite. Did you like packing?”
“No!” says Brin. “It was like juggling a watermelon and putting it in your mouth.”
Brinley thinks of jobs for our family. “Mommy can be a helper, Micah can be a messer, Dad you can be a weed cutter, and I can be a princess.”
Speaking of the villain in a movie that she really likes, Brinley says, “Snatcher is a bottom-fit.”
“Hey Brin, what’s a bottom-fit?”
“It’s a bottom. That fits.”
Looking out at the stormy weather, four-year-old Brinley says that it’s raining “full-throttle”.
“Bye!” shouts Brinley, leaning out the door as I get into the car to run some errands. “Take care of yourself!”
Then quietly, and with a sheepish grin, not knowing if it’s ok or not:
“…jerk.”
Brin, on spinning in her new swing: “My tummy sure gets silly when I spin a lot. I burped a little.”
This is my Fourth of July daughter: in between rounds of sparklers and ground flowers, she checks in on all of the neighbors in our yard to make sure that they have enough sparklers for themselves. She watches some fireworks, then of her own volition goes into the house to grab snacks and cold waters for our friends. Handing them around, she asks, “Are you having the best Fourth of July party ever?”
My heart just bursts with love for her.
I told Brinley about how Grandpa used to pour a glass of milk, drink it, then fill it up again with water this time, drinking down the resulting white, cloudy water.
Emphatically, and with a considerable amount of disgust, she exclaims, “Yuck! That would taste like a bucket of CHEESE AND CRACKERS!”