blood and jesus...

did i tell you that lillie hacked off the tip of her thumb this weekend?

you know grae's always been uncle sugar's mini-me in the kitchen. well...lillie kate is mine. add a mandolin and some apples to the mix, and we're pretty much guaranteed a trip to the emergency.




we were sitting in the next room. pat had shown her and warned her and warned her again, but this is lillie, remember? you talk and she's nodding sweetly, all the while trying to remember all the words to without me by eminem.

{that girl, i swear, will someday enter some talent show near you. as a rapper. keep an eye out for her, will you? and clap extra hard for me, will you?}

she yelled OHMYGOSH! like she was excited or something. i assumed she'd just cut the perfect apple slice or found a worm. something...exciting. but straight-away, uncle sugar put his head in his hands for about a half-second, sighed, and then got up to run to the kitchen.




he knew. and he was so mad at himself. he kept looking at me and lill with those chocolate browns of his, saying over and over i knew it. i knew it. this is my fault. what was i thinking? you're just like your mother. you two never need to step into a kitchen. grae and i will cook for you. ugh, i knew this would happen.

blah blah blah looks like someone's got a new cook! i will accept your kind offer, young man, and raise you the laundry room. say yes?

the blood was insane. poor lill needed me to look at it and tell her it would be okay because boys aren't trustworthy when it comes to stuff like that. it's why they're all scarred up and bearded. but you know i faint when my babies break, so i tried to look at it cross-eyed and convincingly. i still had to sit down and drink some orange juice. it was not a good.

of course, esmé and grae were beside themselves. those three are so connected, it scares me to death. it just does. but love that strong always scares me to death, doesn't it.

esmé asked WHY WOULD GOD DO THIS TO LILLIE?

she is crazy about god, but still can't seem to understand that he might not be micro-managing every little bump and scrape and mandolin accident we ever have. heck, i don't even really understand it. i just stay away from mandolins.




i tried to explain as best i could, but by now you know my best usually has lots of holes in it. whatever. my intentions are paving a road somewhere.

this morning, i made esmé cheesy eggs before school. she ate them all, wiped her mouth, and told me she thought today would be a good day with no accidents. no bad things. she just knew it.

why?

god will like it that you made me jesus-y eggs.

there's so much wrong with that, i can't even deal. but i'll take it, young lady, and raise you tomorrow, too. say yes.

all photos via this pinterest pinner. all things lillie and i probably will never make without injuring ourselves. happy wednesday, friends. xoxo.