Conversations with Alida while I scrubbed the little hair of the fourth child that evening, after dinner and wrangling of homework, fighting them to come back inside and stay there, refereeing a game on the Wii, asking why are all of the toy horses stacked in a pile in the hallway, and then follow-on asking when we got so many toy horses? And why can't you all pile up your shoes so effectively instead of leaving a pair in the backyard (socks thoughtfully tucked inside) and a pair in the park across the street and boys' randomly flung wherever they came off of their feet on multiple levels of the house. And then asking, "What is this? This is gross," to whatever was stuck to the bottom of my foot.
"Mommy, when I grow up, I'm only going to have one baby."
"Well Alida, we all have our plans for our lives."
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