Sweet baby girl
I've always called Maia, "Sweet baby girl." Among other things.
Yesterday, I remarked how tall she was getting.
"No matter how big you get, you're always going to be my sweet baby girl."
"You've said that about a million times," she said.
She's getting to that 'tween age where I'm not supposed to treat her like a little kid anymore. Once, she wouldn't hold my hand in public. Later she told Kristina, "I like holding Daddy's hand, but I didn't want anybody to see."
I thought this might be like that.
"I should stop calling you, my sweet baby girl, hunh?" I asked.
"No," she said. "I might forget."
John, Thursday, December 23, 2010.
Yesterday, I remarked how tall she was getting.
"No matter how big you get, you're always going to be my sweet baby girl."
"You've said that about a million times," she said.
She's getting to that 'tween age where I'm not supposed to treat her like a little kid anymore. Once, she wouldn't hold my hand in public. Later she told Kristina, "I like holding Daddy's hand, but I didn't want anybody to see."
I thought this might be like that.
"I should stop calling you, my sweet baby girl, hunh?" I asked.
"No," she said. "I might forget."
John, Thursday, December 23, 2010.
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