Right. If any denizens of any blog deserve a moment of sweetness, it is mos def the denizens of this blog right here. And so, while I still don’t know what’s up with me, blogosphere-wise, I give you hereunder a very sweet oldie-but-goodie.
I was just snuggling with my daughter in her wee bed, and she had been quiet for a minute or two when she says to me: “How many people draw perfect circles?” (Only she still says “puh-fect suh-cles”).
I say “Oh, not many.”
“Yeah, that’s probably done by machines.”
“You know what honey, you really have to settle down now….”
“Can I just -?”
“One thing,” I say, my cheek against her forehead, my arms around her.
“You know those things that you trace where you make everything just puh-fect?”
“Yeah….”
“Does a machine make those things?”
“Yeah, a machine makes them.”
“I thought so. I knew a puh-son couldn’t make it like that.”
I grin and grin and pull her even closer, kiss her forehead, and say: “You are, just, figuring out the world…!”
And without missing a beat she says: “But I’m only just at the start of it. Because I’m six years old.”
