It is becoming increasingly difficult to go out in public. Ella has no social filter. (When does that kick in exactly?)
-(In regards to a man with dreadlocks held back in an elastic) Hey Mom! That guy has a PONYTAIL!!! Hahahaha!!! (He did not appear to be amused.)
–Why does that man have some earrings? He is not a husband. Husbands don’t have earrings. (Same guy. Still not amused).
–Hey Mom, look at that lady…she’s BIG!
–Is that a boy or a girl? (said while pointing to a woman. Androgyny confuses her. And me.)
–Someone wrote all over that guy’s arm! (regarding a tattoo).
–Why is he brown? Because he was born that way–people have lots of different skin colors. Your Uncle Steven has brown skin. And your cousin Owen. Oh, Yeah! They were just born that way! And I have red hair. Right.
–I have to go poopie (said in church, too loudly)
–I have to go tinkle (said in church, too loudly)
–I think I’m going to throw up (said in church, too loudly)
–I don’t really like your voice, Mommy (regarding my singing. I don’t know what there is to dislike).
-(Because something smelled really bad, and I think it was her rear-end…) It’s you mommy. I think it’s your breath.
–I have cute little buns! And your buns are really big Mommy. (Yes. Yes they are, thank you for noticing.)
But then of course, there is this one…
I love you Mommy.
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t look at her and completely ache with gratitude for her.
She wasn’t a plan.
She was a gift.