Last week Esther went on a jag of waking up waaaaay too early. On one such morning I was up with her, letting Tim get some more sleep. We heard a flock of geese fly low overhead, honking as they went. Esther yelled at the top of her lungs, "Geese! Be twiet! My Daddy's still sweeping!" (He had managed to sleep through the geese, but was not so successful sleeping through his daughter's admonition.)
Shortly before dinner tonight, Esther was dispatched, much against her will, to pick up some potato chips that she had spilled on the floor. I overheard her asking them solicitously, "Chips? You want to stay on the floor?"
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