It’s my evening work time again, and I’m holed up in my bedroom reading Top Chef recaps on Television Without Pity doing seriously hard work. Scott IMs me, as he does about fifty times a night during my work time. If he doesn’t, I have to IM him because, come on, this two hours of separation is agony when you’re in lurve. Which we are, if you hadn’t noticed. Also, it beats working.
Here is the message I just received from him and which I must record for posterity. To fully understand it, you must know that Rilla is two and has just begun using very precise complete sentences. She has made a sudden and irresistible leap into conversation. Certain people around here are helpless in the face of this confident and adorable articulation of opinion.
So Rilla walks into the sunroom.
I say, “Hi, sweetheart.”
She’s holding a panda under each arm and starts for the sliding doors to the patio.
I say, “Hey, hold on, honey. I don’t think those can go outside.”
She turns around and just stares at me for three seconds. Then says,
They’re outside with her now.
BE VAR VAR QIYT
day thirteen: barefoot boy
Question of the Day