Honesty. Sort of.

The other day, I went into the girls' room to check on them, and I found Caroline clutching her hands together against her abdomen. I was concerned that she was hurt, so I asked her what was going on. Her response? "I don't have a baby wipe!" Which meant, of course, that she had a baby wipe. She's not allowed to get baby wipes out, since she has been known to remove all the baby wipes from the container, and then jam them back in, but all crumpled together, so they no longer feed out one at a time.

Anyway, sure enough, she had a baby wipe. I was thankful she only had one.

Yesterday, when I realized that she was wearing jeans ... but commando, I asked her where her underwear was. "Not in the toilet!" Good grief. You can imagine my relief when I later found it on the couch. And no, I don't know what it was doing on the couch, or why she would forget that she'd taken it off and put her jeans back on.

And Lucy? Well, I was looking through my House Beautiful magazine, and as I passed this ad, she said, "Bob!" I think he'll be pleased to know that he's featured in an ad. Maybe.

And why does she periodically call him Bob instead of Daddy?