Hi! I hope that you’re not even reading my blog right now because you’re relaxing so deeply at the pool or beach.
I’m still in syndication here, but if you want to read something completely new, I’ve recently guest-blogged a couple of times for my friend Wade at Birmingham Blogging. They’re pretty geektastic, so read at your own risk. But if you’re a blogger, they’re full of blogging/Pinterest information, so here are the links: How to Create Graphics to Help Your Posts on Pinterest, and Three Hacks to Track Your Site’s Pinterest Stats.
But for here, today, I found this post that I didn’t even remember happening. Given my recent post about not blogging Ali stories as much, it was a particularly fun find.
We all know that Mommies get no privacy. And this lack of privacy leads to…perplexing conversations.
I was getting dressed, as usual accompanied by my three-year-old sidekick.
When I finished, Ali calmly informed me,
“I think your chest is broken.”
“Your chest – it’s broken.”
“Where is it broken?”
She reaches up, pats me right where I feared she would, and says, “That…that is broken.”
“How is it broken?”
“Because…” …she moves onto other things, and I’m left wondering how I managed to break my chest.
A few minutes later, I sit down to help her get dressed. She leans over me, pulls my shirt open, peers down inside and says, “Yup, it’s broken.”
“Well how do I get it fixed, then?”
“That’s because Daddy fixes it.”
“How does Daddy fix it?”
“That’s because he works it.”
“He WORKS IT? How does he work it?”
“That’s because he’s happy.”
And I…am still left speechless.