Sarah and I are talking about how in our old cars without all-wheel-drive we used to slip and slide around a lot more while driving in the snow. Expressing disgust with that state of things, Brinley says, “Ugh!” as she lowers her head, rubs the bridge of her nose, and slowly shakes her head.
Tonight Brin fell asleep counting. “Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirrrrrrr…”
Brinley invites me to play a game she just made up: “Daddy! Would you like to play Catch-a-human-and-then-throw-them-on-the-couch?”
On our way to the park — and apropos of nothing — Brin asks, “Did you know I always love dinner rolls?”
“Hi!” shouts Brin, introducing herself to a few girls at the playground. “My name is Brinley. I have a daddy, and his name is John Warne.”
We’re finally going trick-or-treating! Brin spots another group across the street with a little girl in a dress.
“HEY!” she shouts. “WILL YOU BE MY BEST FRIEND?”
With all the powdery snow we got today, the purples and pinks of the sunset remind us of the movie Frozen. Running around in the snow, Brinley shouts, “Anna! Elsa! It’s me, Brinley!”
It’s pumpkin carving night! Brin selects a stencil of an owl for me to carve into the pumpkin. Wanting to make sure of my abilities, Brinley asks, “Are you a good owler?”
At one point today I got frustrated when Brin kept unrolling the ball of yarn I was rolling up for her. She responded to my exasperated sigh in a monotone robot voice: “Beep, bop, borp. I’m sorry.”
In the car today I’m telling Kristina about a recent trip to the grocery store with Brin. Ears perking up and wanting to be part of the conversation, Brin asks, “What happened when something happened?”