If I had to sum up my youngest daughter, I think I’d point out that she fought viciously against practicing piano when she was in lessons, but now that she’s not in lessons she’s spending easily five times the amount of time and effort at the piano voluntarily teaching herself songs by ear (yes, really) and making up silly jingles about poop.
That’s my girl.
Like looking in a mirror.
Me: “What two servings of veggie or fruit are you having with dinner? I’ll let you choose.”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: “I’ll have carrots and ranch.”
Me: “And what else?”
LMT: “That’s two things.”
Me: “Ranch is not a veggie. Try again.”
LMT: “OK, then grape jelly. Grapes are fruit.”
Me: “Nope. Try again.”
LMT: “I want some… Coffee. It comes from beans.”
Me: “Absolutely not.”
LMT: “You never let me do what I want.”
Me: “Hey, it’s really cold. What is taking so long to get into the car?”
Danger Monkey, age 10: “I dropped my book. I think while taking off all my weapons.”
Me: (slow blink)
Me: “How many weapons do you have?”
DM: “My elven sword and my bow. But don’t worry, I don’t have any arrows.”
Me: “I love you, dude.”
DM: “Whatever.”
Very Vocal Viking 