The other night my oh-so-sensitive daughter Autie, who was feeling particularly lovey-dovey said, "Daddy, when I grow up can I marry you?" Elliott proceeded to melt all over the floor while Anna burst into laughter at such a preposterous question. "No, silly," she said "when you're old enough to get married Daddy will be dead."
Then I overheard her thinking out loud to herself, "I wonder what I'm going to look like when I'm pregnant."
Just kill me now.