So he gets mad and eats his friends?

I had a pretty cute little red-head in my care for about 18 hours over the weekend.

I had a blast with her.

Some of my favorite moments with a 4-year-old:

Me: What's your favorite color?
L: Red, like my hair.

L, after waking up to a nice warm bed thanks to an electric blanket: "Monica, that blanket is magic!"

Reading a book about dinosaurs, which explains that a T-Rex eats other dinosaurs.
L: Is he mad?
Me: No. Why do you think he's mad?
L: He eats other dinosaurs.
Me: Yes, that's what the book says.
L: He eats his friends?
Me: Well...kind of.
L: So he gets mad and eats his friends?
Me: Basically.

L: I don't have a boyfriend. K gets all the boys.
(K is her twin sister.)

L: I get so scared when the lights turn off when I'm going night night.
Me: Okay, child. Let's turn some lights on so you don't get scared.
L: Monica, I can't sleep with the lights on.
Me: *Facepalm*

L: I don't like boys. Boys poop their pants.
Me: All boys poop their pants?
L: Yes.
Me: Okay.

Me, at bedtime: Do you know how much I love you?
L: Do you know how much I love you?
Me: A lot.
L: I love you more.
Me: Nope. I love you the mostest.
L: I love you this much!

Penny Pug: Don't worry. I will protect the tiny human.

And then my heart exploded.

One prays for those that one cannot forgive.

The Crown:

There is no possibility of my forgiving you. The question is, how on earth can you forgive yourself?

One prays for those that one cannot forgive.

Girlfriends' Guide to Divorce:

Disaster is staying miserable because it's familiar and new is scary.

(Someone renewed her Netflix subscription!)

It not you. That another girl.

There is an 8x10 framed picture in my house of me and my best friend at her wedding.

When my 4-year-old twin nieces were at my house, they wanted to know who the girl in the photo was.

I told them that was my friend, who got married that day. I told the twins that my friend has a daughter their little sister's age.

That's neat, my favorite red-head told me in her cute mousy voice. But she had another question: Who is the other girl in the picture?

Um, kids, the other girl in the picture is me. It's your aunt, whom you've seen on a weekly basis for the past four years. I was at the hospital the day you were born. Birthdays? I've been there, every single time. I give you noseys multiple times a week.

No it not, the twins said. It not you. That another girl.

Uh, no. Did you have too much to drink at lunch? The girl in the picture is Aunt Monica.

But you have glasses, the twins told me.

In the middle of my living room, I took my glasses off. I had glasses 2 seconds ago, I told the twins, but now I don't.

Now do I look like the girl in the photo?

But the girl in the picture has long hair, they told me.

Yes. After that picture was taken I cut my hair.

Little cute red-head: No you didn't. You didn't cut your hair.

It was at that point that I admitted defeat, hung my head in shame, and changed the subject.

I remember when the twins were little tiny helpless baby burritos. And now they argue with me about whether a photo of me is actually me.