Rain rain rain blech...

"I don't hate the rain," Rachel said as we drove home tonight.
"That's good, sweetie," I answered.
"Mommy hates the rain," she observed.
"Yes, I do," I answered.

***

I was explaining Yom Kippur to Rachel at dinner tonight, telling her that she could come to the Saturday afternoon children's service with me.
"But it's really looong," she whined.
I told her the kids' service is much shorter than the grownup one. I explained that on Yom Kippur, we say we're sorry for all the bad things we did over the past year.
"I don't have to be sorry for anything on Yom Kippur because I didn't do anything bad," she said.

***

"It's very hard when Daddy's not here," she said sadly tonight.
"Why, sweetie?" I asked.
"Because I miss Daddy!" she said.

***

We got into an up-the-ante contest involving how much we love each other:

"I love you THIS high," Rachel said, measuring from the chair to the top of the table.
"I love you THIS high!" I said, stretching my hand toward the ceiling.
"I love you THIS high!" she said, trying to stretch her hand toward the ceiling, too.
"I love you to the ends of the universe!" I said.
"And I love you down to the basement!" she said.
"I love you 100 million!" I exclaimed.
"I love you 516!" she yelled.
"I love your hair!" she continued.
"I love your face!" I said.
"I love you all the way back to rainbow colors!" she said.
And so on. It was quite entertaining. And touching.