Why I love four year olds

A few weeks ago Ivy and I were walking through the park. I was pushing Elysse in the stroller, and kicked a baby coconut out of the way. Ivy exclaimed, "Hey, Mom! Don't do that! That's my favoritist thing in the whole wide world." And then she picked up the coconut as though it was a fragile kitten and put it in the stroller to keep.

Today we were at the beach. Ivy was sitting closer to the grass and singing this pleasant song: "This is a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful plant!" I went over to her to see what kind of plant would be worthy of such a flattering refrain. With her arm outstretched, she handed me a raggedy baby beach plant, dirty root and all, its solitary two small leaves botched with brown marks. Beautiful, Ivy!