... this life.
The boys decided to go on a bike ride to end off the day; Giselle felt so left out. She cried and cried for about 10 minutes, just inconsolable.
"I want to go too; I want my Daddy!!".
I decided that the dishes and the laundry could wait, and suggested we go to the front porch and blow bubbles. Well, that was the magic solution. She began to jump up and down, and ran to the laundry room to get her sandals. She pulled her socks off (at the ripe old age of 2 she's already figured out the fashion faux pas that a lot of men don't yet grasp) and hopped to the door.
Squeals, glorious squeals pierced the quiet dusk, showering the air with their own brand of enchantment. There is nothing in this world as joyous as the sound of a 2 year old girl chasing bubbles.
And in the midst of it all, she began to sing as she poked as many bubbles that were within her reach. "Doh, doh, doo, dee, doo, doh, doh" was the sweet little melody that she sang with each pinch of her little fingers. She reminded me of a conductor, entranced by the beautiful symphony of bubbles in front of her.
"Giselle blow now; you catch and scream, Momma".
I had to pass on that one -- a 41 year old woman screaming at dusk would have had a less than similar effect.
Precious little G. I love these moments.