Little Kens

I was in the office this week working on something important (like Facebook or blogger) when K came in, laid down on the cow rug and processded to tell me the following:
“You used to be really, really fun before you were pregnant with baby R. You used to ride bikes with us, play games, play outside, push us on the swing. You let us watch TV (in the car) when we were driving 2 or 5 minutes, play the computer, use the stapeler whenever we want, talk on the phone. That’s all you were doing when you were really, really fun. Now you are just… fun.”

My girl likes her some dinner.

Every night, before Vacation Bible School, I would lay out her outfit. When I went back to kiss her goodnight before I tuck myself into bed, I would see where she had later accessoried the next day’s outfit with a little Peace bottlecap necklace, or maybe a pearl bracelet. The accessory makes the outfit. She is her mother’s child.
The child has a heart of gold. Mr. Robinson and Britton were leaving for a Wal-Mart run the other night, and K said she wanted to stay back with me (she was working on seconds of dinner, and I was keeping her company). I could tell she was torn between Wal-Mart, her food, and her Mama, so I asked her- “Kens, are you sure you don’t want to go with your Daddy?”
With her fork in mid-air, she looked up at me and sincerely asked, “are you sure it won’t hurt your feelings Mama?”
No, child, you will not hurt my feelings. 
I asked her what toys little boys play with. Kenley responded with “Ahmy guys and twains (army guys and trains).”
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