Pee all over your father as he carries you naked to the bathtub, and then giggle as you hear it trickle down the side of his shirt and splash on the refinished hardwood floors.
Make a humming noise while you eat your feet because feet are, like, so delicious.
Try to take a bite out of Leta’s stuffed duck and run away whimpering when it quacks at you, you stupid stuffed duck-eating dog.
Volunteer to “brush me on the porch” so that all the hair I’m losing doesn’t build up on the floors inside.
Tell me that your fart isn’t going to stink because . . . you’re magic!
Say that you are “thh-free years old” because you just learned how to make the TH sound.
Make a baby monitor that is so good that I can hear the sound of my baby’s hair growing in the other room.
Refer to our daughter as a ripe berry on the grumpy tree.
Suggest that in ten years we renew our wedding vowels.
Forgive me for obsessively picking the boogers out of your nose.