I teach her how to keep strangers away with her sassy looks. It's amazing that *Mila* will be 4 soon. I can't bear to let go of saying "She's 3 and a half". How will I ever say "She's 3 and 3 quarters"? I can't do that. It will now be "She'll be 4 in March". I mean, who really cares? I have to plan these things out and prepare for when I am asked "How old is she?" which is followed by "Wow! She's tall for her age". Which I usually reply with "Why yes, we use MiracleGro in her cereal every morning." I hate having to tell people that "my husband is tall" as if they can't tell. I'm 5'4". But it gets really difficult when they ask, "does your husband have blue eyes and blonde hair too?" "No, neither of us do." And then they just say "Oh." I want to tell them, "she's really our child. We had her together. This is only recessive genes working very hard in a Darwinian experiment. Do you want me to explain to you about Darwin and the finches?"
signed, the willow
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