“Daddy, do we?”
It was positioned where I could not miss it: right atop my laptop where she knew I’d have to see it.
It reads:
“Valentines Present – go to TJMaxx and buy Emma a dress go the little girls aisle and look for a dress with white and blue polka-dots please please please please please please please please buy me the dress.”
And it explains now the questions she fired off the other evening when I was preoccupied with The Rebel Force (“baby hold *click* still for *click click click* daddy just a *click* second”) and the cutest little nose I’ve ever seen…
…questions like, “Daddy? Daddy! Daddy, do we get presents for Valentines Day? Do we? Daddy, do we?”
I should have know she was up to something.
Of course, I’m as stubborn and immovable as a statue. It’s going to take a whole HECK of a lot more than THAT to pry open THIS wallet and fork over WHO KNOWS HOW MUCH for some little blue and white polka—
“She wears a size seven, honey.”
Okay, so maybe as stubborn and immovable as a daddy can be wrapped around a little finger.
Dude you are so toast at her wedding!
Quite.
SUCKER!!! :)
Yeah, I preemuch got owned the day she was born.
Count your blessings. You have one, my husband has three! And me, of course. :)