“…I have to decide what my last words are going to be.”
That was MilliCal just now. She’s about to turn 10, recall. I have no idea what brought this on.
“Where’s your Daddy?” asked Pepper Mill, my wife.
“He’s upstairs working on the computer, Don’t worry – he’s not about to die.”
Where does this stuff come from?
Earlier today (I took the day off and took her to a Water Park) she asked me, point blank:
“Daddy, Why are you weird?”
Why can’t she just ask why the sky is blue, or where babies come fromm, or something?
Oh, yeah, we answered all those. This is what we get for doing that.