“It’s fashion day!“ Brinley declares. She chooses a color for my lips from her makeup kit.
“Daddy, you get green. Boys have a greenness.”
Brinley and I just concluded a nearly 10 minute conversation about what kinds of food an anteater might possibly eat.
“Brin, listen. What kind of food does an anteater eat?”
“Um, bugs?”
“Yes! What kind of bugs does an anteater eat?”
“… roly-polies?”
“Brin, listen carefully. What kind of little bugs does an ANT EATER eat?”
A slow wide grin appears on Brin’s face.
“ANTS!!”
Update from the following day:
“Dad! What’s that animal that eats ants again?”
“Germs are fools”
Brinley Kate Warne
“Hey! How is your day going?” says Brinley, greeting the crow in the tree.
“Dad!” says Brinley. “I’m trying to get over there, but that sassy girl is in the way.”
I look down to where she’s pointing at our cat Regan, sitting there calmly.
Brinley chooses a book for bedtime.
“Let’s do the one where the bunny has Germans in her tummy.”
Brinley asking the real questions:
“Dad, why do we need undies in this land?”
Apropos of nothing, Brinley asks, “Dad, can you tell me how ducks hiccup?”
“Hey Brin, what would you like for lunch?”
“A cream cheese sandwich with pickles, stars, and dust.”
We’re unpacking the garage when Brinley asks Sarah, “Mom, can we set up some ant traps now?“
“Um, not right now, Brin.”
Brin, sadly: “That means later. Later means tomorrow. Tomorrow means next week.”