When Gia was little everthing was eight thirty nine.
What time is it? eight thirty nine
How much does it cost? eight thirty nine
When should we leave? eight thirty nine
I think this can be attributed to her actual lax bed time of 8:30 or 9:00 which was probably stated to others by Ralph and I as eight thirty nine.
As so many other precious dialects, this has slowly removed itself from Gia's vocabulary. Which really made me sad. Sad to think how much she is growing and how quickly the days are passing. But even more so because I realize that I have not documented these particular words in a fashion where they will be easily accessible as I am sure the vivid moments will fade like all things in life do.
She now has graduated to everything happened on Friday night.
Gia, do you like apples? no
Since when? Friday night.
Gia, do you want to go to the park? Not right now.
Ok, when? On Friday night.
Daddy said I can wear make up and glitter all the time?
When did Daddy say that? On Friday night.
My mom used to make audio cassette tapes of us when we were little telling stories and singing songs that we cherished. Each year is documented somewhere on audio cassettes (granted, I don't think any of us actually owns a cassette player, but that is besides the point) they are there to bring joy to my moms heart.
Isn't it funny how when you take the other senses away, it amplifies the others? How hearing just the voice or seeing just the face makes everything else that was taking place at that moment in time so much more vivid?