i asked her to show me her favorite part of her Red Sox book: the legends of the game. she's a big fan of pudge, just like her daddy.
if a book is out of reach, she often tries telepathy. i keep telling her that her head's too small for that. look at her try, anyway. she sure is persistent.
it's time to stop reading and get to bed.
no, for real beatrix. let's put the books away and get ready for bed. do you want to brush your tooth?
"awww, daddy. i just want to read one more book! pleeeeaaassse? you wouldn't say no to a big smiley face would you?"
(be strong. you're the adult. you're the one in charge. and you're bigger than she is.)
"huh? c'mon... whadda' ya' say?"
bebe, the later this goes on, the worse it's going to get!
really. the complete works of william shakespeare? not to be, bebe. not to be.
note: right before we got down on the floor to read, i was getting her into her pjs on the changing table. she had been laying there for a while and we had been playing- blowing raspberries and smooching and high-fiving, etc. anyway, as we started to wind down, under my breath and really just to myself i said "jeeze, lady, i sure love you a lot." she stopped playing with whatever she had in her hands, looked up at me, and whispered back "da da." holy crap.