Scared You - July 2009

Daddy: I remember the first time I ever scared you. We were camping at Yosemite, and we had to teach you about the fire or you might have gotten hurt. "The fire hurts. It's ouchy, Sarah." Papa and I drew a line around the fire in the dirt and showed you how close you could get without crossing the line. You were doing a pretty good job for a while, but then you starting testing the line. (I don't know where you got that personality trait from.) I was watching you closely when you turned, mesmorized, toward the fire. I let you get right to the line when I ran up behind you, grabbed you under the arms, and boomed the word "Stop!" Immediately, you shuddered and cried and sank into Daddy's arms because I scared you and because you wanted me to hold you.

Waterfalls - July 2009

You were camping in Yosemite with Mommy, Daddy, Nana, and Papa. You had been doing sign language for a month and half now, but Mommy and Daddy didn't quite understand how cool sign language actually was. We were walking through the meadow and you were in Papa's backpack and you saw the waterfall. We had never taught you the sign for waterfall, but you did the sign for water. You connected it up. You, dog, you.