If my daughter didn't look a lot like my husband, there would be an easy way to tell they're related. Waking either of them up in the morning is like poking a hibernating grizzly with a stick. Then there's conversations like this:
I pick H up from pre-school. We're driving down the road, when suddenly H says "It's too quiet."
"I can fix that," I say, and the car is soon filled with DaDa's Disneyland. "Is that better?"
"Yes," replies a happy little girl.
We have also had this conversation:
We're in the Durango, waiting for Daddy. I'm flipping through the iPod, picking out some tunes to listen to. I pick Head On from the Jesus and Mary Chain.
"Turn it louder Mommy." H says.
"Is this loud enough?"
"No, louder!" H exclaims.
Just like her Daddy.
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