The things you will do for a three year old...

up to and including sitting in a tiny chair at a tiny table with your knees folded up over your big pregnant belly nearly touching your chin for forty-five minutes, while you eat dry crackers and drink nasty lemonade out of tiny porcelin cups that barely contain two swallows, carefully stirring in tiny teaspoons of 'cream' (lemonade) and 'sugar' (also lemonade), cups that you had when you were a child, cups that have been in the attic for thirty years and probably have some sort of asbestos dust covering them even though you washed them, despite knowing full well that after this event you will hear "Can we have another tea party, mom? With your special glass teacups? Can we? Can we? Can we? Can we? Can we? Can we?" six times per hour for the next six weeks...

just because it makes her smile.












Or is that just me?