This morning as I had a mouth full of Listerine Emily walked up to me and said, "Daddy, your head is the Moon and you have elbows for legs." She further elaborated by telling me, "You're Neil Armstrong and you live in Antarctica and you lost your space suit." All I could do was motion with my hands that she should finish getting dressed, but this is a good example of how her mind works. Good to see I'm passing the right genes along.
I am thinking of changing my name from "Daddy" to "Daddy-fix-it". Emily thinks that I am the superhero of fixing things. "Daddy, can you fix my fire hat? Can you fix this torn book? Daddy (crying), the zipper broke on my doggie knapsack." Here you go honey, all fixed. Now I'll admit that I am handy but Emily thinks I can fix absolutely anything including popped balloons, broken rubber bands, and stickers that don't stick anymore. Wait, I actually have fixed all those things on at least one occasion. What if she's right? Maybe I can fix anything. Emily, if it makes me look like a hero in your eyes, keep the broken stuff coming. You know where my workbench is. Daddy-fix-it is on the job.
2 comments:
Is that a doggie pacifier in that doggie backpack?
No, it's a mat for dog bowls.
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