This past Sunday we went to the park where Nora refused to play on the 2-5 year old equipment. So we dodged 8-year olds who could care less if Nora was in their way. She would jog up to kids playing in the sand and just stand in front of them and stare. She wanted to ride on the physically challenged swing [which is essentially a big plastic lounger]. No un-abled children were there so we let her for a bit. For 10 minutes she sat in that thing and just stared at all the children around her.
This past weekend she stationed herself outside the bathroom door while Tim was in there and said in her “dragon” voice, “I’m gonna get your pooooo-pooooo!” - WTH?
I believe it was the same day when she went into the fridge [because she can now] and went after one of my yogurts, only to drop it and have it explode all over her. We couldn’t NOT laugh.
Nora has also talked about the babies [plural] inside me; her brother and sister. Not cool.
I came home last night in the middle of a pretty bad tantrum which started because Tim made Nora stop “driving” his car in the driveway. She’d thrown her crayons, so she was in timeout. I asked her, “What do you say to Daddy?” She sat on the ottoman, hands on her cheeks, “Let me think....”
What a goober.
She is quite a little character! Always makes us laugh!
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