Brin hears me get in the shower in the morning. She turns to Sarah and says, “Daddy is taking a beautiful shower.”
Brin was playing with some plastic toy handcuffs tonight. When I asked her what they were, she said, “That’s jail.”
Brin and Sarah are making some spiders out of paper plates, pipe cleaners, fuzzy balls, and googly eyes for Halloween. As they’re finishing, Brin says, “We still making arts and craps?”
During our nighttime routine, I go to tuck Brin in. She sweetly looks up and asks, “You scrub my back, Daddy?”
We’re driving in a parking lot and I realize that I’ve missed the turn onto the main road, and say so. Brin shoots back, “We drove too far. Dat’s a bummer.”
We are driving to the Children’s Museum, and Brin is concerned because she thinks we’re going the wrong way. She says, “The ‘zeum is not down this aisle!”
Brin is picking books for reading before night-night. After a lengthy search, she gets a big smile on her face, grabs one, and exclaims, “Dat’s what I’m talking ’bout!”
While playing hide-and-seek underneath a blanket, Brin calls out, “Where are me?”
Sarah is reading a book to Brin. After squirming for a bit, Sarah moves Brin into a position to get her more comfortable.
Sarah says, “How’s that, Brin?” To which Brin replies, “It’s not grrrriffic.”
It’s our normal drawn-out nighttime routine. Brin is in and out of her room, the light flicking on and off.
“Brin, close the door and get back in bed.”
“I don’t wanna.”
“Brin. Door closed and in bed… now.”
“NO! Listen to me, guys!”