While driving into Providence today, we past the bridge on the East Side that has been stuck open for years. Norah says "Uh oh, Mommy. Bridge stuck." "Uh oh," I replied. Then Norah tells me, "it's okay, Mommy, the crane with fick (fix) it."
Norah's most recent positive response to things: "Oh, sure."
Tonight I asked Norah, "Do you want some milk to take to bed?" Her response, "No, I'm good."
and, finally: Norah rockin' her froggy boots


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