Mia stood on her stool at the counter, tongue poking out in concentration as she mixed the batter with her pink spatula.
“Mommy,” she said, watching a pancake curl at the edges. “I think this one looks like a dinosaur.”
After breakfast, I wiped her hands clean with a warm cloth and crouched beside her.
“Okay, munchkin. Where should we go today?
The zoo? The park? Maybe the bookstore with the cute cookies and coffee?”
She pressed her lips together like she was considering something serious.
Then she smiled suddenly.
“No, Mommy. I want to go to the pretty house.”
“The pretty house? What pretty house, baby?” I asked, the cloth still in my hand.
“The one Daddy takes me to,” Mia said, taking a sip of her apple juice.
