My girls spend a good part of the day playing alongside of each other...not so much with each other. This is mostly because Natalie is three and Michaela Byrd is one. Natalie likes to play with her dollhouse; Michaela Byrd likes to see if she can sneak into the darkened bathroom and play in the toilet. Not exactly playmate compatible.
When they do play together, it's such a brief and fleeting moment that I usually feel the urge to grab the video camera and capture the rare occasion for posterity. Their minute-long playdates usually end in shrieks (both girls) and hair pulling (Michaela Byrd--she fights dirty). I am looking forward to their teenage years with the greatest anticipation. Excuse me while I go fix a stiff drink.
What? It's only 3 pm?! Never mind then....
So you can imagine my pleasure when Natalie announced the other night at dinner that she would like to share a piece of bread with her sister. I glanced at Michaela Byrd, who was happily drinking her sippy cup, zoned out in a milk-induced coma. She must have looked famished to Natalie.
"Here," she said, reaching across the table to hand me the piece she had so lovingly selected.
I looked down at my palm. It was empty. Except for a crumb so miniscule, Bill Nye the Science Guy would need to bring his microscope in for us to see it.
"Um, thanks." I said. Clearly she was worried about Michaela Byrd filling up on those carbs. Clearly.
Hey, it's a start!
Can you see it?