In all of this mornings chaos, Elle was revving herself up and demanding some attention. I was busy helping Lucas construct a lunch that wasn't made up entirely of Oreo Cakesters, and enlisted Brett to keep her happy for another few minutes.
"Hey Brett, go talk to Elle for a minute."
"Awww, can Emma do it? I mean, I never know what to say to her. What am I supposed to talk to her about, global warming?"
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Your Brett and my daughter Taterbug would get along famously. Some of the things she says at eight years old really have me concerned for when she turns 16! Great blog, by the way :o).
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