For starters, as I was putting the red pepper flakes away after spiking M's dinner with them, I smashed my finger in the spice drawer. I've done this before. You'd think I'd learn, but no, I continue to injure myself. Anyway, it was not pleasant. It was one of those things that makes you think you are instantly going to puke, and I literally fell to the floor, rocking back and forth in an effort to not string together every curse word I know. (For the record, no improper words escaped my lips.) M and S ran over to see what was the matter, and when M realized I was okay, he told S to stay back and just give me a minute. And she did. One minute. Then she said, "Dad, don't try to stop me," and came right over to me to pat me on the shoulder. She gave me a kiss, and then she told me I might need to be more careful.
Then after dinner, she asked if M or I was going to take T upstairs to bed. She wanted M to do it, but I told her if he did that I was going to go to the grocery store. She said, "and leave me down here all alone?" I said, "Yes, for the six minutes it'll take your dad to feed your brother." She replied, "Oh, Mommy, I would shiver with fright."
Then there was another one, and I can't remember it for the life of me, but it was funny enough that I came in here to blog about it. I'm so geriatric that I can't remember something my daughter said for five minutes. Wow. Looks like Santa needs to bring me Brain Age.
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