We drive down the street and she wants to know the names of the joggers, of the man on the billboard, of the voice on the radio. She keeps asking until my answer satisfies. She wants to know every. single. thing.

The day will come when I won't have the answer to your every question. When I won't be invited to your hot chocolate parties.

And I will remind you that when you were 2 1/2, I knew everything.
2 comments:
I want that cup :)
...and she'll look at you as if you've finally gone and lost your last marble!
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