Sunday, June 11, 2006

Four

I have a daughter who is four years old.
My daughter is four years old.
My four year old daughter...

Repetition does not make it seem any more real. Last week my daughter turned four years old. FOUR.YEARS.OLD.How can this possibly be true? Surreal moment of blowing out the candles. Four years later, me with no abdominal tone, permanant stretch marks wondering how in the world I got this far... Lately we have hit a regressive patch. Bedtime, mealtimes are a bitch. She has lost her knack for entertaining herself and lurks around looking for trouble. Most of which involves the cat.

A few weeks ago she sat in her underwear scarfing a bowl of blackberry rhubarb crisp. I was trying to talk with my husband about food and she interrupts.

"I dont want do this God Damned thing."

Silence on our part. Do not scold for foul langauge.Try and move past it. "What thing, pal?"

"Talk about buckwheat noodles."

Well, I can't argue. I didnt want to talk about GD buckwheat noodles anymore either.

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