My daughter came and randomly informed me that, "When I grow up, I want to be a person who takes care of de animals."
This is completely new to me. We have fish. That's it. No cat or dog, no hamster or parakeet, and certainly no livestock. (We will have animals someday, I just think it's mean to buy a dog and make it stay in our tiny backyard.)
"Oh, really?" I asked. "What is your favorite animal?"
We then talked about what animals she would like, "Cows that type--click, clack, mooo" which is from a book. So Mickey Mouse and cows that type. Quite a farm. She also wants some ducks, a pig, and a bear.
"Aren't you afraid the bear would eat the cows?"
"Um, no. Dese are nice bears," she explains.
"What are your bears going to eat, then?" I probe.
What is wrong with me that I do not see these obvious answers?
With no segway, she puts on a very sad face, complete with the pouty bottom lip and says, "I really miss my Grandma Cheek."
She doesn't have a Grandma Cheek. She has a Grandma Chinn. (Her last name really was Chinn, by the way. We didn't just call her that because she had a wart on her chin or anything. This answers a question my son once asked.) Grandma Chinn is her great great grandma. They never met.
"You do? You miss Grandma Chinn?"
"Yes. She's is so, so nice." At this point she sniffles and wipes her already dry eyes.
"Oh, look! My jamies have a kitty on dem."