At our aforementioned trip to the park last weekend, Annie and Jemma climbed all the way to the top of a metal bar structure that they call "jail" in spite of my worried-mother grumblings about it being too high. When they arrived at the top, they wanted me to take their picture. I agreed on the condition that they get down immediately after, and they promptly settled themselves into a side-by-side, hands-on-chin, cheesy smiling pose, as though I was shooting their senior pictures, but not before Annie glanced down and read the graffiti that was scrawled on top:
Brandon was here. Suck it, bitches! She read it aloud, then Jemma repeated it in a sing-song voice, then I took the photo. Thanks, local hooligans.
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This outfit:
Also, this outfit (though I love that she's sneaking in a little before-school reading):
Also, this outfit (with an added bonus that she's pretending to be an "old lady"):
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The fact that it has somehow become tradition that Jemma wear Jason's "My Goodness, My Guinness" t-shirt each time we are at Dune State Park.
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While I'm making dinner tonight, this conversation:
Jemma: Mommy, what are you making?
Me: Risotto.
Jemma: Oooh, I love your homemade risotto!
Me: Thanks!
(five minutes later, she wanders back into the kitchen)
Jemma: Mommy, what's a ho?
Me: I, ahh, what? Why?
Jemma: Because, HOmade. What does the "ho" mean?
Me: sigh of relief
I would really like to hang that picture of Jemma on my wall to make me laugh every time I look at it. I think I'd like to borrow her for a while.
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