Kids say the darndest things...

On Saturday morning, Meg and I woke up as we normally do, to little feet walking into our room, and little cold feet  and hands seeking warmth and cuddles with us under the blankets while everybody wakes up slow. 

It's sweet, and we love it.  Except when they come in any earlier than say 4am or so.  And with 3 little wee ones, those odds mean that nearly every night at least 1 of the 3 comes into our room in the midnight hour.  It's not really a bad thing anymore, they all usually sleep pretty good in our bed and don't keep us awake anymore.  Except for those times when, as odds have it, there are 2 at the same time in our bed.  Then things get a little tight, and then I'm the one who usually loses sleep.  But anyway, that's enough of that tangent....

So Saturday morning, we woke to Dempsey coming into our room, on her way to snuggle.  While still walking toward the bed, out of nowhere she said this:

"Momma, I'm going to be in the hospital when I'm 6."

.....

"Really?  Why, Demps?"




She couldn't answer. 





Looking back, I think little Dempsey must've had a dream.  Seems logical.  And far more comforting to think that's the source of her exclamation, rather than some sort of Nostradamusque prophesy. Yeah, let's go with that.

Ah, kids. 

-R