Cora spends about 1 1/2 hours every night singing insane songs and fighting with her stuffed animals before she falls asleep. I generally know she's acutally going to bed when she throws some poor animal into the hall before slamming her door. We're thinking of changing her middle name from "Cleary" to "Drama." And while I usually stay out of this nightly Cora performance piece, tonight I couldn't resist checking in:
Me: Cora, go to sleep.
Cora [eyes wide, lisp heavy]: Mom, the sky changed color.
Me: I know.
Cora: It's amazing.
Me: yes, it is.
Cora: And I love your earrings. They're just, so...silver.
Me: Thanks.
Cora: When I'm a grown-up, I want holes.
Me: Go to sleep, cora.
Cora: You have earwax.
Me: Goodnight.
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