Walking into an elementary school, arms full of heavy backpacks. I come to a big heavy fire door that I can’t possibly open myself. Suddenly a tiny 2nd grader boy appears and opens the door.
Tiny dude: “I’m holding the door for you.”
Me: “Yes, and thank you very much.”
TD: “You are welcome, big hairy guy.”
Me: ….
The world needs to know that I just got soundly beaten at Memory by my five year old daughter. I’m no slouch memory-wise, and I was not letting her win. I’m a little embarrassed and a lot proud. The Force is strong with this one.
Me: “How was gymnastics?”
Little Miss Thing, age 5: “I’m really good at it. And they make us do blah blah blah. You know how it goes.” (runs off to play)
Me: “I feel like blah blah blah means I’m not cool enough for that level of detail.”
Wonderful Wife: “Me neither. I got the same version. Maybe some day we’ll be cool enough.”
Me: “Probably not.”
Very Vocal Viking 