I think that says a lot about the zen of childhood. Being and unbeing. Etc.
Later, while watching The Care Bears Movie, the Biscuit listened attentively to a song about "Home Is In Your Heart", shook her head sagely, and said:
Huh. That must hurt, to have a home in your heart.
Today I tried to really, really listen to my 3-year-old. I heard amazing things and beautiful things and desperately annoying things. And I also think she might be partially deaf. Ear wax blockage runs on both sides of the family.
That's all I've got, folks. I'm on a 24 hour sleep deficit for the week, t.rex has spent the past two nights vomiting on me, and I'm not making much sense. But at least I don't have a home in my heart, right?