Here Comes A New Shelmet

Yesterday I drove to work so that I could pick Zoe up from daycare. When I got there, she was happy to greet me. We gathered her things from the classroom and headed down the hall. We got about halfway to the front door when she turned to me and said, "Daddy, I have to tell you a bad story about me." "What happened love bug? Did you do something bad?" "Yeah." I had no idea what she was talking about, so I turned to listen to her as we stopped in the hall. "Yesterday when mommy picked me up I hid in Miss Sarah's room and mommy was made. She didn't make this face." At this, Zoe put clenched fists on her hips and grimacing her face into the frowny scowl of her mother. It was eerily spot on. She then relaxed her face and put her arms at her sides. "She made this face." Now she did the same thing with her hands, clenching them on her hips, but her face was more of the disapproving Cheryl. What really got me was when she...

After a long day at work, I got home to quite a treat. Zoe agreed (read, demanded) to paint my fingernails. It was a painless process and my nails looked beautiful when she was done. Once mine were done, she wanted her own nails painted. She was nice enough to let me do that for her. I don't think I have ever painted nails before, but I did a pretty good job. Well, maybe not since after the first hand she asked mommy to finish it.