R: (laughing aloud and picking me up into a hug) I love your righteous anger!
A: Grammie Gee said she made you a little nest so you could wake up like a baby robin and look out at the Rockies.
B: You mean like a six-year-old robin.
B: Who gets to have lots of birthdays.
A: You really love birthdays, don't you?
B: Yeah. I especially love the ones that have a high number. Because I'm old.
B: (to a Sunday school teacher) My mom and dad are going to Hawaii to make me a little brother or a sister.
A: (in response to Rob talking smack about punching me like I punch him - hard) I'd be crying, but you'd be running.
R: (thoughtful) If I ever hit you, it would be hard enough to lay you down. And then I'd have time to figure out how to never ever tell your dad about it.
(thoughtful pause, as I was laughing)
I'd have to tell him at the beginning of deer season, when I know he can't hit the broad side of a barn with a .22.
(I'll just let Dad explain that, if he cares to, in the comments.)
Dr: You should wait until your cycle is regular again before trying to conceive, so that we can pinpoint a due date.
A: (thinking: you're saying I should time my pregnancy so that it's convenient for you!?) Yeah. We'll see about that. We leave for Hawaii in about a week.
Dr: Oh! Well... have fun!
A: You betcha!
(My uterus proceeded to respond in the next few days with the biological equivalent of "PUT A BABY IN HERE!" It was really annoying. Note to uterus: be less annoying. I'll do my best.)
Rob sent Bethany a photo of the treats we're bringing to Hawaii, which includes a ziploc of my beloved white chocolate powder for lattes. Her response:
Love it!! Watch Ad's bag get searched and y'all have to explain the mysterious white powder... and yes, my iPhone just tried to correct "white powder" to "whoremongers." Beautiful.
Reminds me of this place.