"Dis widdol piggy wen' to mahket
dis widdol piggy stay home
dis widdol piggy have roas-muk
dis widdol piggy have none
dis widdol piggy say wee wee wee ahw da' way home!"
"What did the little piggy have?" I ask.
"Oh! Breast milk?'
The days are flying by so fast. I hate that. And then I realize, they are just days. They have no power. They don't take anything from me. When did I stop counting Tessa's days, or her weeks? I don't tell folks she is 53 months old. I learned to enjoy her days, and at some point I stopped counting them. I wonder when that was, and when it will be that I stop counting Jonah's days.
(20, by the way, in case you lost count. But it only feels like about 8.)