It was cool this morning.* Margaret and I got back from taking Leo to work, and I gave her a choice: she could go in and have breakfast, or she could play in the backyard.
The wheels in her head turned visibly, which was very cute. She knows what breakfast means, but she wanted to stay outside. Outside won for a while.
She is perfecting her running
And she loves her soccer balls, but I begin to despair of explaining the rules to her.
Another place that she enjoys practicing her running is downhill on concrete, which is, as you know, the best place to practice.
And then, of course, she gets to the bottom of the hill and realizes that Mommy is cruel and unsympathetic, because the gate is shut.
Since I had made it so that she couldn’t play in the real traffic, she decided to check out the car.
And she knows that she’s not supposed to play under the car, you can tell.
It was at this point that I repeated the word “breakfast,” and she decided that that was a good idea. Pausing only to inspect the propane tank,
and sit for a moment on the stairs,
and perhaps play a little on the stairs,
she went in to breakfast.
*I lie, you know. It was 82, which is not cool, not at all. But it has been in the high 90s, so 82 felt bearable.
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