Tonight, I was downstairs fiddling on the computer, when I hear little footsteps and down comes almost-5 year old Amy.
"Amy!" I exclaim, "Get to bed!"
I turn to quit my application. No footsteps are headed upstairs. I hear the faint sounds of scratching on paper. Ready to be annoyed, I turn. . . . . . to find. . . . . .
This.
"Mommy! I wrote, 'Amy go to bed'!"
I don't know if you can see it, but it's clear as a bell to my misty eyes.
AMY H H beb
She is a precious gift to me, indeed.
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