I know I'm getting behind on the blogging again. It's because I'm distracted during the day reading exciting articles about the importance of sharpening your lawnmower blade, the thickness of your lawn thatch and compost piles. The snow is gone and I'm looking forward to getting outside. The kids have already been riding their bikes.
I keep thinking I will write at night but, lately, the moment the sun is below the horizon and I stop moving I go right into a coma.
I figured while it is still sort of Valentines Day I will talk about how much my daughter cracks me up. I know my words cannot do her actions or inflections justice but here they come anyway.
First, she is 3 years old and obsessed with teenagers. It is still very important to her that she becomes a teenager WITH BIG FEET. The cool thing about teenagers is that they can do anything. She tells me more everyday. Dad, I think teenagers can eat in the living room. Teenagers can use a knife. Teenagers can get a real tattoo. Things like that.
My daughter and her 4-year-old cousin also play a game based on the lives of my younger teenaged sisters: "Okay, I'm Erika and you be Sarah..."
Sometimes I like to rattle her cage a little and tell her things like, "Teenagers stink. When you become a teenager that's when your body starts to stink and you have to wear deodorant."
When I say that, her eyes get wide and she gasps as if I just told her Santa Claus eats raw pony meat for dinner every night.
My daughter has talked to me about a serious bedtime issue before in regard to my goodnight hugs. Apparently, I have not complied so tonight she went over my head and spoke to my wife about it, "Mommy, can you ask daddy not to hug me so hard? Lastnight he crushed my leg into a triangle again." ("Okay, Livvy." "Thank you, Mommy.")
I'm not exactly sure what she means when she says I crush her leg "into a triangle" but she has mentioned it more than once. But the truth is... I don't think I can hug her any softer than I do.
I will hug her and love her and name her George.