Really, truly, let me know if you need another invite to the other blog. I promise not to offended that you haven't been avidly following our every move.
Mommy: "Holly, how old are you?"
Holly: "Umm. Sixty-five."
(While looking at a picture of a velociraptor) "His mommy needs to cut his nails."
Daddy: "A is for Andrew."
Holly: "No! A is for Audrey. D is for Dandrew. D is for Daddy!"
"AMEN!!!" (This was after a really long talk at church that made the meeting go over time by about fifteen minutes.)
Daddy: "What did you learn about in nursery today?"
Holly: "Boys."
Daddy: "Ok, let's kneel down here in the kitchen to say family prayers."
Holly, with a note of true desperation: "Noooo! It's dirty in here!"
Daddy: "Ok, let's go in the front room to say family prayers."
Holly, even more traumatized: "Noooo! It's dirty in there too!"
(In fairness, Holly's complaint was undoubtedly justified, but isn't there something in Alma about crying unto him over your dirty homes?)
Mommy: "Sometimes it's hard to feel like being a Mom is worthwhile."
Daddy: "Holly, is being a Mom worthwhile?"
Holly: "No."
Daddy: "Say yes, Holly."
Holly: "Yes. No, Mommy's not worthwhile. Mommy's a girl!"
