One of the most important jobs I have as a father is to regularly count Rosalie’s fingers and toes, to make sure they are all still there.   Sometimes I “miscount,” and get to the shocking totals of nine, eleven, eight, or even twelve.  So far she remains unimpressed by my sense of humor.  I’m hoping that soon there will be a window of a couple of months where she thinks I’m funny, before she starts the inevitable rolling of eyes that will continue into her teenage years and beyond.

Rosalie 016

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