After dinner this evening, Caitlyn announced, "My voice is getting loud because of my imagination. It's this big," spreading her arms about shoulder-width.
"That big?" said Ian.
"Yes. It's medium sized. And oval shaped. And orange."
"Your imagination is shaped like an orange."
"Yes."
"Is your imagination juicy like an orange?"
"Sort of."
"Will your imagination grow as you get bigger? Will it get juicier?"
"Yes. It will be really juicy when I'm sixteen."
Oh, honey, you have no idea.
Happy Solstice from Seattle, where we have about a foot of snow on the ground and somehow miraculously still have power.
"That big?" said Ian.
"Yes. It's medium sized. And oval shaped. And orange."
"Your imagination is shaped like an orange."
"Yes."
"Is your imagination juicy like an orange?"
"Sort of."
"Will your imagination grow as you get bigger? Will it get juicier?"
"Yes. It will be really juicy when I'm sixteen."
Oh, honey, you have no idea.
Happy Solstice from Seattle, where we have about a foot of snow on the ground and somehow miraculously still have power.
2 Comments:
Oh, my indeed! That's precious, and oh-so-foreshadowy!
That's a great story. Out of the mouths of babes...
One of my favorites from Conrad was when he announced around friends:
"I want Mommy's Knockers!"
Of course, what he was referring to was the pair of binoculars I was wearing. He eventually graduated to calling them "Nocklers."
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