MyThreeDaughters

Rose will be two next month. I read last year that redheads often have an advanced ability to learn languages.
Rosebud hardly shuts up. She probably gets it from her sisters. Often in this house, at least two, sometimes three or four, people talk at the same time.
I don’t mean, talk a little and then, “Oh, sorry, go ahead.”
I mean, full on sentences, paragraphs, stories, everybody weaving a yarn without regard to anyone else.
Rosebud, again, she’s less than two, says words like “actually” and phrases like, “These shoes fit me well.” One of her first phrases, an absolutely essential one in this house was, “I talking first!”
Tonight, driving her home from one of Fontaine’s school events, she pointed to some triangles of quesadilla in the console of the car (we always keep some there, just in case) and said: “No like the quesadilla. Throw it out the window.” (I’m not a fan either. It’s a long word that means, in Spanish, “Mexican grilled cheese sandwich.”)
So, driving down a fairly major thoroughfare in a not-very-major city, I zipped the window down and chucked a couple of slivers of quesadilla out toward the sidewalk.
Man, kids give you an excuse to do some fun stuff, don’t they? Next time you’re feeling a little glum, I suggest hurling some quesadillas out the window. It’s quite satisfying.

That’s the back of Fontaine’s red mane in the photo