hearts and souls

This morning, as we were pulling out of the driveway, Alice looked back at the house, waved and said, “Bye-bye, House. See you soon.”

And yesterday. As I was digging through the bathroom drawers, searching for a tube of lip gloss, I heard her stomping down the hallway: “Jacket, where are you? Jacket?”

I just don’t know of anything so charming as the animism of toddlerhood. My heart will break when it goes away. I’m serious, I’ll cry for days probably.

We read that, developmentally, anyway,  2-year-olds are nothing if not self-centered.

And yet, such a sweet and earnest belief in the lives and feelings of things must draw from a deep, deep well of generosity and love.

Don’t you think?

She sat on my lap to finish her breakfast.

“Careful, doot-doots, don’t fall out,” said said, pushing stray Cheerios back down into the bowl.

And then she bit the edge of the bowl. I don’t know why.

She looked at me and looked at the bowl. “Sorry, bowl.”

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