I found an envelope that I made notes on. This is not surprising because I am the kind of person who writes notes on envelopes. Then loses them in a heap of other papers. Then discovers them amid the heaps of papers when going through them later, can’t bear to part with them, and leaves them in the slightly smaller heap to re-lose and rediscover later.
A few gems from today’s find:
“There’s my shadow! And there’s your shadow!” she cried one day.
“What do you need to make a shadow?” I asked. When quiet ensued, I tried again. “What causes your shadow?”
With all the surety of a two-year-old (because apparently this envelope is not a super-old one), she said, “Daddy!”
I laughed, and then she said, “The light!”
One morning, when she woke up earlier than we’d hoped she would:
“I’m sorry, bird, I didn’t mean for you to wake me up.”
One day, hysteria ensued when I pulled her pants down for her to go to the potty. Crying, crying, and more crying. The next day, she said, “I will not be sad. I will not cry about it!” She said it twice, too, and very earnestly, to be sure that I knew she really meant it. She was calm, too.
And now, the envelope can be recycled. It lived a good life, and it brought us some happy reminders.