For the last several months, Richard and I have made a new rule in the house: no shoes on the carpet. Yeah, it probably sounds a little "much," but it just cuts down on so much dirt and yuckiness...and with a little one on the way, we figured it wouldn't be a bad thing to go ahead and get in the habit of taking our shoes off in the back hallway after coming home from somewhere and putting them in the "shoe basket." Jillian accepted this new rule pretty easily and knows the drill: shoes off when we walk in; and shoes on right before we leave and that we don't walk on the carpet after they're on (the latter is the more difficult rule to abide by).

Anyway, last week at some point, as Richard was about to leave for work, Jillian saw that Daddy was wearing his shoes and yelled from the kitchen table to Daddy:

"Don't walk on the carpet!"

After realizing it was too late, she turned to me and said, in a disappointed tone:

"He already walked on the carpet."

The matter-of-fact/disappointed tone just cracked me up! It was almost like she was thinking, "what will we ever do with that daddy that just can't follow the rules?"

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As we colored in the playroom a couple of days ago, we heard a siren and had the following conversation:

J: What's that? (ambulance siren)

Me: An ambulance

J: Ambulance (said with amazing accuracy!)...where's it going?

M: To the hospital - it's taking sick people there so doctors can help them.

J: That's where we get babies...

M: Really? Wow, very good! Who said that?

J: Hannah...

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