Evie and I were playing in the living room tonight. She was running across the room, crashing into the couch, giggling hysterically, running back to me, giggling hysterically, etc. etc. And it's funny... even as she was doing it, and even as I was laughing at her silliness, I could *distinctly* hear Denise Goodale's (my mom) voice in my head: "It will only end in tears." (This was her mantra in my formative years.)
And it did, when Evie tripped on the rug on her way back to me and bashed her face against my knee. Lots of tears, lots of "real" blood, and one decidedly adorable fat lip.
Evie likes to remind me often, just in case I would be inclined toward forgetfulness:
I'm not sure I could say the same thing about myself, but I am pretty sure Evie is smarter than a fifth-grader (or at least smarter than your average 17-month-old). :)