We babysat Abby yesterday. While her daddy took Austin to a football game, she came to spend the day with us. Besides singing songs with her grandfather, she was interested in the dogs, the cat and the fish and the doll house.
Ginger is called the “good dog” because she doesn’t bark at little girls; Annie doesn’t earn that title. She wanted to know if that “other dog” was in “her room” where the doll house is kept. She was and, of course, promptly barked from her crate when we entered the room.
I said aloud in the car that I needed to feed Raggs, our calico cat, when we got home. As soon as we got in the house, she reminded me. Later, again back in the car, Bruce asked if I’d fed the fish. No. Little Missy reminded me again after we returned from seeing Lion King.
Also in the car (yes, we were in and out all day) I lamented that I wished we had cup holders in the back seat. ”In my daddy’s car, they are there,” she said, pointing to the folded up arm rest. I pulled it down. Sure enough. There they were. I’ve only owned that car for five years. . . . sigh.
Need sorting out? Give the job to a four year old.
