Izzy: Mommy, Mommy
Me: What Isabella?
Izzy: I broke it
Me: You broke what?
Izzy: (with all seriousness and holding onto it) I broke my arm.
Izzy: (rubbing her arm) I broke my arm.
So I have her come over to see what she's talking about. I thought maybe she was talking about her shirt that was torn but she kept saying, 'No I broke my arm.' I moved her arm all around... it was okay. And then I realized she was pointing to the virus (wart like thingy) on her shoulder. She had scratched it and thought she popped it.
It was so stinkin cute! I thought at first that she was being funny because sometimes Mike teases her when she wants me to 'carryo' her and tells her my arm is broken... but no she was serious.
And now... it's 10:50 and she is still up, reading her Mickey Book and eating cheerios.
Sweet Izzy stories.