From the dustbins of the drafts posts back in April. Bear was a freshly minted 3. I had forgotten we went through a phase of calling her little sisters Jesus.
Me: Go brush your teeth.
Bear: No thanks, they not dirty.
Me: You have to brush your teeth in the morning and before bed.
Bear: Ok, I pick morning.
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Bear: Mom, you mother?
Me: Yes, I am your mother.
Bear: My Dad Father?
Me: Yes, Daddy is your Father.
Bear: Oh, babies Jesus?
Me: No
Bear: Hmm..just twins?
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