Poppy Says: "Whereis'm," when she wants to know where something is.
Poppy Says: "Purple, Mama." Whenever Ruby asks what color I want the basement. "Maybe Green. Or Purple." And Ruby says: "I was asking your father, sweetie."
And because I have no decorating sense, I shrug and answer: "You heard her."
Poppy Says: "Let's play ring around the rosy, daddy." Because she likes to fall down, with great theatrical pratfalls that we worry will split her head open like an over-ripe cantaloupe even if we know that, more often, bumbles bounce.
Poppy's bed was changed into a kid bed today. She was small enough to fit the crib, no problem, but there was a scratch on her nose the other day that she blamed on the kitty, even though I was pretty sure she hadn't gone to bed with it. So when I went into her room at 7:00 AM, she'd already turned on the lights, and was busy shoveling her books into bed. She was going to read to goat, but she decided she preferred breakfast instead.