We went for a walk yesterday afternoon; it seems the fifties are here to stay (at least for a while). Rachel found and picked a bright yellow dandelion.
"What is this?" she asked me.
"It's a dandelion," I told her.
Apparently she missed the yellow blossom stage this summer and only experienced the white fluffy stage because she got really excited and started trying to blow the dandelion apart. After letting her get winded and a little light-headed I informed her that the dandelion was not ready to blow on quite yet. She drooped a little bit and dejectedly held the flower out to me.
"This is for you," she sighed.
"Oh, thanks!" I said, "It's as yellow and beautiful as the sunshine!"
"Yeah!" she said, perking up, "It's as yellow as the fire hydrant, too!"
She is as romantic as her father.
Miriam has turned into little Miss Monkey-See-Monkey-Do lately and had been watching her sister with verifiable interest. She walked over to a pile of decaying leaves that had likely been sitting in the gutter since October and picked up a handful. She puffed up her cheeks with air and then blew into her hand, scattering leaves and splattering muck everywhere.
Now she thinks that picking things off the ground and blowing on them is the newest spring fashion.
"What is this?" she asked me.
"It's a dandelion," I told her.
Apparently she missed the yellow blossom stage this summer and only experienced the white fluffy stage because she got really excited and started trying to blow the dandelion apart. After letting her get winded and a little light-headed I informed her that the dandelion was not ready to blow on quite yet. She drooped a little bit and dejectedly held the flower out to me.
"This is for you," she sighed.
"Oh, thanks!" I said, "It's as yellow and beautiful as the sunshine!"
"Yeah!" she said, perking up, "It's as yellow as the fire hydrant, too!"
She is as romantic as her father.
Miriam has turned into little Miss Monkey-See-Monkey-Do lately and had been watching her sister with verifiable interest. She walked over to a pile of decaying leaves that had likely been sitting in the gutter since October and picked up a handful. She puffed up her cheeks with air and then blew into her hand, scattering leaves and splattering muck everywhere.
Now she thinks that picking things off the ground and blowing on them is the newest spring fashion.
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