Monday, July 05, 2010
After we got home from our trying and fatiguing nearly five hour trip back from Portland, Christian went out to get pho and I made Viv her dinner. I sat with her as she attempted to scoop beans out of her bowl with a too-small spoon, the only clean one in the kitchen. She suddenly stopped scooping, looked at me and said, "Don't worry, Mama." I thought I must not have heard her correctly, as she's never said anything close to that before, so I asked her, "What did you say, baby?" She replied, "Don't worry, Mama," very seriously. I paused for a second to let what she just said ruminate, and asked her, "Don't worry about what?" She thought for a second and said, "I don't know," and started eating again. Smart enough to relay the message, too young to comprehend, maybe. Got it, Mom.