"Patrick, do you love me?"

I actually overheard this conversation today and thought it was pretty fun.  Patrick's sound of the day was "yeah."  He said it over and over again.  Which is how this happened:

Sadie:  "Patrick, do you love me?"

Patrick:  "Yeah."

Sadie:  "Mommy, Mommy!  Is that Patrick's first word?"

Me:  "Nope.  I think we're counting Dada as his first word."

Sadie:  "Patrick!  I'm not Dada!"

In other random news, before I get down to the business of sewing snoods and quilting, I almost hit the floor a few nights ago when what sounded like gunfire was right. outside. my. house.  

Then I realized it was just a large amount of really big fireworks.  I will never get used to living places where really big fireworks are available for use by your average drunk guy celebrating a momentous event or holiday (To be honest I don't even know if they are legal here.  Are they legal?  Or just available in a nearby state?).  Growing up the little teeny packs of fireworks were banned most of the time because we were perpetually in a drought.  So seeing regular people setting of the big ones is just plain weird to me.  

In other "news" Mae and I have a new bedtime routine.  Sadie always falls asleep before Mae (on a side note, Sadie and I went to the May crowning at the parish down the street tonight and she actually fell asleep leaning against me and then again while standing up, before waking up enough to be super excited when they carried in the statue.  Her quiet snore during the homily seemed to amuse the eighth graders sitting around us.  She was wide awake when she brought up the flowers so they could be put, with hundreds of other flowers, in a vase.).  Well now Mae waits for me to come up after Sadie's asleep to help her nurse her dolls.  When I pretend to help her burp the dolls there's likely to be hysterical laughter... and then she can finally go to sleep.  Maybe.