Order of Operations!

Sophie has taken to picking up or pulling up a variety of plant life and then asking, "Is this poison ivy?"

Ni Hao Kai Lan

At dinner at a friends, Sophie impressed with her ability to speak some Chinese.

We can thank (the animated) Kai Lan.

Like a horribly accurate mirror

"Well that sucks," I said in passing yesterday.

Immediately a voice piped up from the back of the car.

"Yeah, that sucks.  That sucks, doesn't it daddy?  It sucks.  That really sucks."

Her mother gave me a significant look.

Infinity

Tonight, at bed time, Sophie counted to 29 for me.

She almost made it all the way to thirty, but skipped from twenty-nine to twenty-ten, twenty-eleven, twenty-twelve.

I stopped her and told her that "twenty-ten" was called "thirty".

"Oh," she said, "Thirty." Then she asked me, "Daddy, can you count to infinity?"

"No I can't," I told her, "Nobody can count to infinity. There are too many numbers"

"Oh," she said. "If fourteen goes with fifteen is that infinity?"

"No," I told her, "Fourteen and fifteen are twenty-nine."

I remembered being tormented by the thought of infinity when I was just a bit older than her—six or seven.

So then I changed the topic, because four years old is a bit too early to be lying in bed filled with numerically induced existential angst.

poison ivy: bad news good news

After about 24 hrs of bumps on the back of Sophie's hands, we realized the red bumpy things weren't from dry skin. We're not sure if this is from poison Sumac, Ivy, or Oak, but it's highly likely it's from one of the three. The good news, she had a rather mild case and it has taught her a lesson about picking things in the forest with abandon.

crocs are a crock..

Sophie said Saturday that she wanted some Crocs. I let the Easter Bunny know and he brought her some in her Easter basket this morning. The first time outside, she tripped over herself. By the evening, she had already lost one. No more Crocs. I should have never left you, Keens. Keens, will you take us back?

coolest daddy ever!

Tonight Sophie told me, "If I want to take a pony ride, Daddy will hook me up, right?"
Well, yes, Sophie, your daddy will let you take a pony ride just about any time we come across ponies.

April Fools

One of her cartoons had an April Fools episode.

Her magazine talked about April Fools.

She got really really excited about April Fools.

We spent the morning doing things like putting her pants on my head and shouting April Fools! Or saying "I'm a dinosaur duck--April Fools!" Or shouting "Poopie on your head--April Fools!"

Or just "Blargh! April Fools!" and a bunch of tickling and laughter.

And I got carried away.

I know--I knew--she couldn't really be fooled, that that would spoil the fun. But I got carried away, and in a moment of mirth:

"Did you know it snowed last night? It snowed all over!"

And then I watched with a sinking heart as a really excited girl rushed over to the window.

"April Fools!" I said weakly as she turned a visage blank with disappointment and betrayal to face me.

I mean, she got over it, but still.

She was not amused.