It's Mardi Gras so I cooked a special dinner for the family. The smoke detectors in our house do not work.
Baby told me that when she grows up she's going to take her kids to school and then go running. Because it is important for moms to have time to themselves. She might be trying to say something.
The father figure informed me that there should be a sixth child. Because, as he matter of factly announced, otherwise he will completely spoil Cinco because she is the cutest to ever exist. I an typing this as Cinco alternates between gnawing/licking the chimney and peering over to make eyes at her father. She knows who butters her bread. I'm just the one who insists she takes naps.