precious

The sweet two-year-old lass is turning on the charm these days, telling me I'm "precious" and "I yuv you."  at least as often as she tells me to "go 'way, Mom" when some calamity befalls her (having heard similar edicts from her brothers).

Much of the time she sings songs to herself or recites snippets of text from books we've been reading, or dotes on her baby sister with much tenderness and affection, even calling the raven-haired lass "my best friend".

She's made of sugar, spice, and more than a little spunk, and she's oh so very precious.

Don't even get me started on this little one...

 

or these guys, trying to fix a wooden play toaster for their spunky sis who liked to toast all sorts of things ...