4 Years Old

Saturday, July 15 (during a LENGTHY conversation in which P was distraught about a dog who had passed away):
M: Everybody dies eventually, honey. I will, you will, everybody.
P: I don’t want YOU to.
M: Don’t worry. Hopefully that won’t be for a long time.
P: Well, when Jesus and God see that you are a mommy, they will know that you just need to stay here on Earth forever.

Wednesday, May 3 (while looking at a picture of swim lessons in our city recreation guide):
“I am REALLY good at reading. You wanna know what this says? ‘Pools are a little bit like oceans, but the people who swim in them do not sink.’

Sunday, April 23:
P: I would like to go to school today so I can see [a boy]. I do not mind if his hair hangs down all around his head. I still really really like him.
M: Yeah, it doesn’t matter what his hair looks like, huh?
P: No, it does not matter. But it’s brownish-blackish-darkish.
M: What matters is if he is kind to you. Is he kind to you?
P: Oh, yes. He runs around with us, and when we play “Family” he always bees the thing nobody wants to be — like the cat.

Monday, April 3:
“I can run faster than the other tag kids. I have speed limit legs. I have FIFTY POUNDS of legs.”

Monday, March 27 2017 (while discussing the different kinds of doctors she could be):
M: You could even be the kind of doctor who delivers babies.
P: You mean I would put them in a box and wrap them up and deliver them to mommies?