Dixie is in the throes of pencil sharpening. I swear, I could buy her a 100 pack of pencils, sit her down with the sharpener, and only have to look over every half hour or so to empty the tray.
Every time she runs in with a different pencil, she throws a new comment out.
-Mommy, I love the Fuzzy Bald Kissin' Head. It's so cute. But when the Fuzzy Bald Kissin' Head grows up, it won't be a Fuzzy Bald Kissin' Head anymore and I'll be so sad.
Then she runs back, and sticks her hand on the top of Melody's head.
-Look, Melody! Look at how tall my sister is!
Then she comes back to show me that she has found more pencils to sharpen.
-I tricked you! Ha, ha. I love to trick people. I think trickin' is my favoritest thing. Can I be a tricker when I grow up?
***About the Fuzzy Bald Kissin' Head: at some point last year, it became necessary to make a family rule that Charlie's head was only a Kissin' Head. It is not a squeezing, licking, setting-things-on, hitting, rubbing, grabbing, whacking, coloring or anything else head. Only a Kissin' Head. And I'm a little sad, too, at the thought that someday it will have hair and smell like boy and not be for kissin' anymore.