on 09 June 2014

My Girl speaks her own language.  Of course, she THINKS she's speaking beautiful English, and most of the time I don't even think about it, because I understand her perfectly.  It's only when Chris is home that I realize that I have developed the gift of Interpretation of Tongues as her mother.  She speaks and Chris looks at me and I repeat what she said in proper English and then Chris whispers, "How did you get THAT?!"  And I shrug and go on with whatever I'm working on.

For Example, Chris is cuddling and reading with the Girl right now.  They are reading Poppleton.  The Girl is cuddled up with her pink blanket and her Mabel bear.  In between books, the Girl hugged her blanket and said, "My BACON."  And Chris said, "Your blanket?"  And she said, "Yes.  Aunt Gi-Gi make my Bacon!"  Then Chris looks at me and said, "What?!"  And I said, "Aunt Sherry made her blanket." 

And that's when we started cracking up laughing. 

We are hunting and hoping to have an update for you by next week.  In the meantime, I'm reading Poppleton and knitting a lot.