Birthdays and Haters

My Darby turned five last month.  That wonderful morning, after we had gotten up and moving, she sauntered across the living room, hand on hip, and asked, "Mama, do I look, uh, bigger to you, now that I'm five?"  I tucked in my laughing tears and said, "Yes, Darby, actually, you do look bigger to me now."

Last week, Gabe, in his camo boots and Wall-E underpants, sat on the kitchen floor in tears.  It had been a long afternoon and he was just exhausted.  Daddy wasn't cooperating as completely as Gabe deemed necessary, i.e. not giving him some treat from the pantry before dinner or something of the sort, when Gabe sobs, "Dada, you're a hater!"  I could not believe my ears, nor could I recall him recently watching Jersey Shore, so I'm not sure where that came from.

It is never dull with two little humans in the house!