Brigid, grabbing my right hand and pointing to the ring that Steve gave me in the hospital right after she was born (while I'm trying to read a good-night story to her even though she's not quite ready to go to bed...): Mom-mom?
Me: Yes, that's mommy's ring.
Brigid: Da-da?
Me: Yes, daddy bought it for me.
Brigid: Born?
Me: Yes, daddy gave it to me when you were born. And someday, when it fits your finger, you can have it.
Brigid: giggles like a loon...
Wait five minutes, then repeat. Approximately 15 times.
She's crazy, that kid...but at least she's cute enough to get away with it.
(Once, during all of this, she grabbed my left hand by mistake, looked at my wedding ring, said 'nope', and went for the other hand instead. At least the kid knows her jewelry, I guess...)
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