I will not mention my sore throat, not even once
I’m going to bed in five minutes, no excuses. You know what that means: POSTIN’ NO DELETE STYLE. Giddyup.
Tonight at bedtime, Rosie called to us several times because she was scared/hungry/needed water, etc. Once she even called out to let us know that she didn’t hear us when we said, “GOODNIGHT, ROSIE” and then got out of her bed, turned down the music on her CD player, got back in bed and then said, “OK! What did you say? I was telling you I am hungry!”
Hello! FYI, parents! That girl can talk her way around over and through all of the situations. Finally after she’d been quiet for some time, I was headed to brush my teeth and stopped by her room where I found her still awake in her bed with a vampire finger puppet atop her pointer digit. I sat with her for a minute. She asked me, “Mama, when we die, does our voice change?” To which I eloquently replied, “Uhhhhhhh …. what?”
“When we die. Does our voice change?” She spoke slowly, as if I were an idiot. Which I really actually was at that moment.
“Well, uh, when you … die, you won’t have a voice like you do now … it will be different, kind of like … well, no one really knows what happens when you die, so …” She interrupted me. “Oh! Never mind, never mind.” Then, wiggling her vampired finger in my face she said, “HE knows what happens.” And then flipped over into sleep position totally content, as if to say WELP, SOLVED THAT MYSTERY.
OK creepy kid, keep on creepin’ on.
On that note, I will take my yesterleave. Third post of the week, even though I have a sore throat! Whatup!
Oh wait. Damn. So close.