“Finley, would you like some pancakes?”
“Nigh.” she replied.
“Would you like some grilled cheese?”
“Nigh.”
“Would you like some mac-n-cheese?”
“Nigh.”
“Finley, would you like some mac-n-cheese?” I tried again.
“YEAH!”
“Ok. We will get you…
“Ma-maaaaaa!” Finley exclaimed, trying to get my attention. My eyes were plastered to our 14-year-old son who was up to bat.
“Hold-on, Fin-Fin. Jones is batting! Let’s cheer for him!…
“Hold still, darlin’.” I instructed as I struggled to get Finley’s hip wrap into place.
“AAAAHHH!” She yelled, unhappy about laying on the floor.
“Finley.” I said sternly. “We have to…
“I’m SINGING IN THE RAIN! JUST SINGING IN THE RAIN! WHAT A GLORIOUS FEELING…” Jones belted the old song from the top of his lungs while holding and spinning…
“MAAAAA!” Finley exclaimed emphatically. “Ma” and “My” are Finley’s go-to words in her extremely limited vocabulary. They could mean absolutely anything in the world. Sometimes the answer is obvious…