I was schlepping a huge basket of laundry down the stairs when T was coming up. Since one of his favorite sayings about me is, "Weebles wobble, but my wife falls down," he offered to carry it to the laundry room for me. Not one to look a gift (chauvinist) horse in the mouth, I hand it over. He takes it and grunts, "You sure are a stout little thing." For the record, he totally meant that as a compliment since he goes to great lengths to maintain his own herculean strength. But still, stout? Sigh.

Later that week, we had just finished a nice family dinner and were getting ready to clear the table. Z pushed back her chair, pokes out her tummy and exclaims, "Look, Mama! I am big just like you!" while patting it. Double sigh.

1 comment:

  1. Hey! I just love your blog and am disappointed when there is no update. To this posting, I am sad to chime in that our children are VERY observant and usually too honest. My little guy was coming down the stairs on Sunday, and I was at the bottom. Since he had a pretty good view of the top of my head, he exclaimed, "Mommy, your roots are turning black!". Then, this morning, he again pointed out that my hair was turning black and why didn't I dye it. Thank you, C., I'll get right on that...


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