I picked you up from school yesterday, and your teacher told me that you and the other two girls your age had been involved in an all-day brawl. She said it didn't seem like anyone in particular had started it, but that every once in a while, one of you would haul off and yell at another one and the pushing would begin. I don't know if your school has a surveillance camera, but if they do, I want to assure you that it's not being picked up by the Spike network, and you won't be receiving any residuals for your career as a mixed martial artist. So, cool it.
We came home, and it was like most highfalutin afternoons around here... just hangin' out on the deck in a dress with no shoes, kickin' it with a pickle.
You're getting much better at jumping lately, and sometimes both of your feet actually leave the ground at the same time.
But here's the big news: yesterday afternoon, you said your first complete sentence. Based on its content, I don't know if I should be proud or concerned... I'll confess that in the moment, I both clapped and rolled my eyes.
You had a pickle. Ella wanted to smell it, and got a little too close. That's when you shoved her away, pointed to yourself and said "NO, AT'S MINE!"
I can only imagine that this phrase came up a lot at school today, during your ultimate fighting championship. Yeah, all the little pieces of this mystery are finally coming together.
Love and a sigh,
Mom
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