Nora Shorts

Her poor belly button. She is convinced there is something in there she needs to get out, and works on it once or twice a day.

-----

She every-so-often refers to herself as "My Nora" and in the third person. i.e. "My Nora would really like a cup of milk. My Nora would like chocolate milk. In a sippy cup. Please."

"When she was five My Nora went to Japan and saw the pyramids. And there was a camel in there. He was eating thorns. And My Nora, when she was big, saw a monster. But she wasn't scay-ared at all. Except just a little bit."

(Most of her stories have not an ounce of truth in them.)

-----



She has very sly ways of getting what she wants. For example after dinner, she will whisper to me a cue, "Ask me if I would like some dessert." After I ask, she will tap her mouth with her index finger follow by a long, conpemplative "Hmmmm. Yes, I would please. Great idea, mom!"

Can you even say no to that? The little PR department in her brain works very hard.

----

She spends most of her day playing pretend with her small dollies and doing puzzles over and over again, and she is serious about both activities. Last night when John came home from work, he went to see Nora who was in her room doing puzzles. When he greeted her, she didn't even look up, but just said, "Don't bug me Dad."

-----

She has picked up the silliest accent and it's from who knows where. She has attached a southern sounding drawl to all her "a" words. For example: "May I have some ray-anch?" "I cay-an't!" "Sit on the chay-air." "Here cay-atch." It's not very funny typed. But hilarious in real life.

-----

potty training? pffft.

Attempts: dozens and dozens
Successes: zero





update: we finally had to put a bandaid over Nora's belly button because it started bleeding from all the picking.