Heard

I wonder about the had-to-be-there-ness of these anecdotes.  Without Tucker's expressive eyes and four-year-old intonation, the retelling may translate awkwardly here.

After I'd taken away the silly putty, because he'd twisted it into his hair so thoroughly that scissors were involved in the extraction, Tuck moped around for a minute.  And then he said, "I can't remember what is the number for the police.  119?"  I asked him why he needed it and he made a slit-the-throat motion and pointed at me.

Playing pretend: "Mom, you be Princess Bugetti and I will rescue you.  It's okay if your hair doesn't reach the ground.  I will grab onto a comet and fly up to you, and then we can just take the elevator down together."

He lost a blue boat under bubbles in the bath tub.  He asked for help finding it and when I handed it to him, he said, "Oh, I thought maybe it went down the drain to Michigan."

"I know where chicken comes from!" he declared at dinner one evening.  "Pigs!"

I brushed a hair off his cheek and he asked, "What are you doin'?"  I explained and, thinking it had been attached there, he replied, "But that's the hair I'm growing before I can be a daddy."

Tuck woke to find me wearing one of my Celia's Walk t-shirts.  "Do you miss Celia today?" he wondered.  I explained that I always miss Celia, and thanked him for asking.  "Maybe she's happy today," he said.  "Maybe they have iPads at Heaven's house and maybe she's playing Angry Birds up there."

"My nose hurts.  I think it's workin' on growing new boogers."