Follow Ups

So, Amelie is yet to actually do anything whilst sitting you know where. A repeat performance of random self-imposed potty sitting occured this afternoon and whilst it was mysterious to see, I kept my mouth shut about it and didn't show up until she requested a clean diaper.
"Did you do anything?" I asked, knowing full-well she didn't.
"No, I didn' poop. I did a wee-wee, and then Jenny went to lunch."

(I still don't know who Jenny is, or how she managed to creep into that sentence).

I promise my blogs won't always just be the latest cute thing my kids have said. Although that line above, I'm sure, is going to haunt her most of her life. It's just struck me lately just how imaginative she can be, and now that her vocal power is in full swing, she's become so incredibly entertaining. She has, of course, been insanely cute ever since she was born, so adding wordage to her list of charms didn't hurt at all. But for some reason, over the past week or so, her imaginative story-telling has bloomed. She tells stories constantly. At home, outside, playing by herself, telling stories to Imogen, and (the most embarrassing) to anyone at the store who happens to stop long enough to get an earful. What can be difficult about it, is that sometimes people don't realize what she is saying is made-up, and I feel like I constantly have to keep saying, "she's just telling a story".

I'm sure thousands of other women all over the world have children just as delightful, but that's ok. I just figured if you're reading this, you'd also be able to relate to my own delights.

In other commentations...

Imogen broke my blue pot, but it was my own silly fault for not removing it from harms way.
Ryan is dressing up for work tomorrow. I'll try and snap a photo tomorrow morning while he's not looking.
I'm making up 6 boxes of TJ's mac and cheese. I have no idea how Ryan's going to get it to work tomorrow.
Outside the kids are having the time of their life, however in my short-sightedness I failed to see that my precious patio space, to them, is just another place to store their toys.