The World According to Rayna

Overheard snippets from two of Rayna's conversations this morning:

First, I overheard Rayna making THIS decree at the breakfast table, "Dad's the boss. Mom's the boss. Darcy's the boss. That's THREE BOSSES for TWO KIDS, Doug!" (At least it appears that Darcy has finally succeeded in her six and a half year endeavor to indoctrinate her little sister!)

Then, later, on the way to school, Doug (who believes in dreaming LARGE!) was telling his dad what kind of house he was going to buy. Rayna indignantly interrupted him and asserted, "Doug, YOU can't buy a house. You're TOO LITTLE to buy a house. You gotta be 30 or 40 or something. ...9 years old, 10 years old, you can't buy a house! A baby can't buy a house. A baby can't cook. A baby is too short!"

The lament over shortness reminded me of the note I had found awaiting me on the kitchen counter this morning. Evidently, Rayna had taken in upon herself to empty the dishwasher last night, but her height hampered her. Easier than getting a chair, or even just TELLING us(?) was to write this note and prop it up between the two clean coffee mugs on the counter below the target cabinet:



(I love the way she drew the arrow and positioned the note so that it was pointing directly up to the appropriate cabinet, as though already sensing our quickly approaching senility! In honor of that, I have opted to crop her note just down to the WORDS so that the words will show up a bit LARGER here on the blog for those of us sorely in need of bifocals!)...