Sarah, my former editor (for a short time) at the Oregonian who took a buyout and is now an accountant, came over this morning with her almost-4-year-old son, Noah. I gave Rachel a brief talk about sharing before he came, and she really was great -- didn't mind at all when he comandeered her toys. She was happy to play near him or join the women in the kitchen as we drank tea and talked.
We went upstairs and Rachel tried to get Noah to play with the plastic balls in the big tub. The fun ended when she got herself into the tub but bonked her head on the coffee table trying to get up. She needed lots of comforting and cuddling, which I was happy to do!
This morning over breakfast, she wanted me to sing to her. "Yellow submarine," she said. So I sang one verse of it, and then she asked for "Blue Submarine," and then I got inspired and sang, "We all live in a RACHEL submarine/a RACHEL submarine/a RACHEL submarine." She nearly doubled up laughing, she thought it was so hilarious.
Then she started singing on her own, "We all live in MOMMY submarine," and I started laughing. Then I suggested DADDY submarine, and then ultimately I ended up singing, "We all live in a RACHELandMOMMYandDADDY submarine" and she erupted into such a fit of laughter that it really became time to do something else.
Will someone out there remind Rachel, when she is old and bored and embarrassed by her parents, that once upon a time I could make her laugh so hard that I hoped she'd never stop? Please?
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