We were coloring at a table with several older women while visiting with Isaac's grandma. Every time one of them complimented Ellie's coloring, she said, "Yes. And I'm a very good little girl too."
As Ellie sorted our family's large laundry pile by family member: "Mama, it's hard to describerate what goes where because your pregnancy clothes are so big that they look like Daddy's." (That one wouldn't be cute if it weren't for "describerate!")
Helping herself to watermelon at Great-Grandma VanLoon's today at lunch: "I'm giving myself a decent-sized amount, aren't I?"
This morning she asked what the word "rascal" meant. I explained that it's someone who gets into trouble a lot. At dinner, she asked if Satan was a rascal.
I noticed Ellie's headband had disappeared from her hair, and asked where it went. "I don't know," she answered. "Look everywhere in the house and then you'll find it."
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