If you look at the list of blog tags to the right (and down), you'll see that "Rose" appears only about half as much as "Bren," "Gabe," or "Trev." A number of factors contribute to this discrepancy, including the fact that Brendan and Gabe are both older and have thus had more opportunity to do blogworthy stuff; the Trevor was more recently a toddler and preschooler and thus was more prone to do cute kid stuff than any of the older kids; and that the boys spend more time with me than Emma does. She and Jodi get more one-on-one time by virtue of shared interests, etc.
One thing that hasn't been a factor, because it simply isn't true, is that Emma's not as cute or funny or bloggable as our male children.
Case in point: today our girl-baby and I ran errands together. As we rolled into Elk River, she spotted Chipotle and hatched a plan: "Dad, why don't we go to Chipotle and not. tell. anyone."
"Emma!" I said in mock outrage. "That would be incredibly mean and selfish. Besides, I have to go home and make them supper tonight."
"You have to make supper for them," she persisted. "Nobody said anything about us."
"No, Emma, I'm sorry — we can't go to Chipotle."
"Oooh! then how 'bout Pizza Hut? I want to toast a tortilla, then wrap it around a slice of cheese pizza and eat it!"*
"If we stopped at either place, that would really toast Mom's tortilla."
Emma laughed and laughed. "Next time I get mad, that's what I'm gonna say: 'That really toasts my tortilla!'"
"You can do it with other stuff, too." I said.
And so we did: "That really browns my burger." "That really fries my bacon." And so on.
"Toasts my tortilla" and "browns my burger" are Emma's current faves. I love that girl. And even though I mentioned the other kids in this post, I'm not tagging it that way. She needs to gain some ground!
*This, by the way, was later dubbed the cheese pizzadilla or the quesapizzadilla.
Labels: family, fatherhood, food, language, Rose