An hour or so ago, Kylie was standing at the piano bench and, with some paper plates and sheet music that her sister had helped her acquire, was dutifully rearranging things over and over again into different sized piles. I love how toddlers engage in such tasks while looking like they are concentrating very hard on a job of immense importance.
Ah, someday she'll be a super powerful CEO, arranging people and products in such an efficient manner that it makes millions of dollars, and I'll feel stupid for having written that.
Doug (passing the two big dairies on 168 & 137): Mmmm-mmm, that's the smell of money.
Keilana: No, Dad, its poop.
Doug: Someday you'll understand.
Keilana: No, Dad, I do understand. Its poop.
Keilana (after saying "I knew that" to everything we told her for two hours): Daddy, do you know who else knows everything? Sethy.
Doug (watching the girls fight over a toy): Do you know what causes sibling rivalry?
Me: Having more than one kid!
Dylan (from across the room, to this point in his own little world): It wasn't me!
Doug (to Dylan): You're cute.
Dylan: No, I'm cool. And mommy's beautiful.
Keilana: That's Chuck. He likes to beat box.
Keilana(dismayed to turn on the TV and find that her program had been preempted by a speech): Not the president AGAIN!