To my mom before she left for a dinner date with my dad and friends
“G-Ma, be careful. Don’t forget your wallet.”
Rowan and I were talking about how all of the Wilson~Miller men have facial hair.
Me: Rowan are you going to have a mustache or a beard when you get older?
Rowan: Yes, and probably a knife. When I am 5.
During a particularly cranky morning
Me: Rowan, did you just hit my leg on purpose?
Rowan: I did! (starts fake-ish crying and leans on my leg)
Me: Oh, are you hugging me because you are sorry?
Rowan: NO! This is NOT a hug and I am NOT sorry. (more fake-ish crying)
At breakfast last weekend we were talking about Little Jack Horner. Rowan likes to shake up the plot lines sometimes.
“I stuck in my thumb and pulled out a cigarette and burned my lips.
On our drive to school one morning, I took a Nutrigrain bar with me to eat on the way.
Rowan: Hey, where’s that Nutrigrain bar?
Me: I ate it, Bub. That was my breakfast.
R: Mommy, I am upset with you for not sharing that Nutrigrain bar.
Me: Oh dear! I am so sorry. I thought you were full from your breakfast and wouldn’t want any.
R: I did need some.
Me: Sorry. Are you going to be okay?
R: I will.
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