Laugh riots of conversations took place, but it's hard to remember them. Emma's at the age where she comes up with her own things to say, but will parrot you as well. One of Jason's favorite stories about her is from New Year's Eve, where he was left alone with her for just a minute. Here is a rundown of the conversation:
Emma: I'm thirsty
Jason: Um....(looks around) Do you want some juice or something?
Emma: Juice!
Jason: (thinks to self--I'm a grown-ass man. The kid wants some juice? I can get her some juice) OK! Let's go get some juice!
Emma: Juice!
Jason and Emma walk to the fridge. Jason opens the door. He looks around. The only juice he sees is a big bottle of V8. He looks at Emma.
Jason: Is this the juice?
Emma: Is this the juice?
Jason: (to self - Oh Shit)
Emma: Daddy!
Jason: Aha! I know where your Daddy is!
Emma and Jason walking together: Daddy! Daaaaaddddyyyy!
So tonight was all about us trying to get Emma to say stuff like "Peace Out" and "Adios" (which she does readily and with enthusiasm) and getting her to "dap", which is where you make a fist and punch fists like you're "bros". She's adept at that. Also, she was in a big time mood to climb all over her Daddy.
And fix his hair
We all bought tickets to the gun show, and Emma showed off her new ink:
Then she hopped around, sang us several songs, and generally brightened the house, the street, the town with the sheer brilliance of her existence.
I hate to think how poetic I'll wax once I have my own kids...
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