On the way home from our morning at a pumpkin patch outside of Berlin on Saturday, Lilah awoke from a nap and said, "I'm going to tell Buongy-Buongy about the pumpkin patch." (I'm not sure of the correct spelling of Buongy-Buongy - the sound is something between "Bungy" and "Bongy", but he is a dearly beloved giraffe, clutched while Lilah sucks her wrist for the ultimate in comfort and security.)
Later, at home, I heard a conversation down the hall: "We went to a pumpkin patch today. We seed pumpkins!" Claire added, "And some pumpkins were white!" Then Lilah again: "Buongy-Buongy, why are you sad? Mommy, Buongy-Buongy is sad because he wanted to go to the pumpkin patch!" Poor Buongy-Buongy. You'll be glad to know that Buongy-Buongy was in attendance at the ball held later in the living room with Tinkerbell the ballerina and Cinderella, and he even got to dance with the prince. (What can I say? Tinkerbell the ballerina-fairy waved her wand over me and I turned into one.)
Speaking of Cinderella, she appeared in my room this afternoon wanting to know if quiet time was over, in her blue shimmery dress of course, but also with a scarf around her head in a snarl of hair and knots and a pair of tights -- excuse me, an apron -- tied around her waist. I'm sorry to report that no photograph was taken, so you'll just have to use your imagination, which probably won't do the real thing justice.
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