Dorothy made a beaded Christmas necklace at school and described it to me multiple times before it came home: jingle bell, 6 green, 6 white, 6 red, jingle bell, 6 green, 6 white, 6 red, giant jingle bell, 6 green, 6 white, 6 red, jingle bell, 6 green, 6 white, 6 red, jingle bell.
We stopped on our drive to Chicago at the Tennessee Aquarium. There is much for sale there, and I told Dorothy that we had spent our money on the tickets, so we weren't going to buy any of the extras. Towards the end, she spotted one of those donation buckets where you drop in the coins and it swirls inside a big plastic funnel on its way into the bank. "Can I do this?" she asked. "It doesn't take any money!"
Dorothy approached Brian with her arms open wide and a mischievous look on her face. "I'm here to hug you, Daddy," she said, "but don't tickle me back!"
We were singing the 12 Days of Christmas. We got to #8, and Dorothy sputtered out, "Eight milks-a-making...makes-a-milking...maids-a-milking!"
Dorothy loves nothing more than being carried to the car "in the middle of the night" to begin a road trip. At 5 a.m. in a hotel in Bowling Green, Dorothy stirred, and then said, "If I can't go back to sleep, we'll have to stay in this hotel another night."