dance sweetpea

It was before dinner and Brett and Charlotte and I were all chilling out in the living room, enjoying the evening. Charlotte and I were dancing to one of the dreamy instrumental parts of Yes's "Awaken". While the song was still playing, it is a long one after all, I left Brett and Charlotte in the living room to go fix dinner in the kitchen. A few moments later, Charlotte follwed me in:

"Mama?"

"Yes, babygirl?"

"Dance, sweetpea!"

How could I turn down such a request? I didn't. We finished out the song and then fixed dinner.

Earlier that same day, another sublime parenting moment of a completely different sort: I was letting Charlotte have a bit of nudie time to run around upstairs. She found the tube of butt cream and, knowing it's not something she's allowed to have, she scurried off to the bathroom with it and closed the door. I followed right behind, and as I opened the door she looked at the floor and said, "Make a pee pee." Yup, a few yellow puddles on the floor. I walked over to the roll of tp and then back to the puddles to start mopping. Charlotte walked over to the tp roll, then back again to the half-mopped pee pee. A kid can't resist walking through any kind of puddle, even the yellow kind. But she cautioned herself as she walked through, "Swipperwee... swipperwee" just before she slipped in the swipperwee pee-pee and fell, nudie self and all, in the half-mopped puddle. So as I came back with more tp, I mopped up the rest of the floor, and my pee-pee sticky daughter.