true confession time.
There are tiny bits of jello on the den carpet, under Madd's computer.
Trev comes to me with the tale.
"Maddie..." says her Mama, coming in caked with dirt from spending the day in the garden, "Babe, this can't be here. Did you spill this?"
"No, I spit it."
"Well, it needs to be cleaned up. We can't spit jello on the carpet, honey, it will turn the carpet green."
"Okay, Mom!" she says enthusiastically.
Then, "I can't get the rest," as I was passing through on my way back outside, "Could you help me?"
So we're picking up the tiniest bits, and she flings her hands, sending the jello bits to hell and back.
"Madd! Don't fling it... use your head."
So she wipes it on her head.
I do forget, friends.
I do forget that these favorite comrades of mine are just little,
and do not quite come from the same place as I.
Oh, Little Ones.
I love you so.
And I promise I am trying.