Pouty Faces

When I first met Gracie three years ago, I taught her an invaluable lesson: how to apologize so that anybody will forgive you. You put your chin down, doe eyes up, and say very slowly, "I'm sorryyyy." Think Kevin McAllister in "Home Alone" as he attempts a last-ditch effort so as not to be banished to the attic. But, I told her, it only works if you really mean it; you have to actually be sorry. Over the course of that night I also taught her how to say it in Italian ("Mi dispiace").

When we met again last week she didn't remember the Italian version, but she has definitely nailed the English. So I tried to teach her again. And also in Spanish. And also in French. "Apologies are the best thing to learn in every language," I told her. I am going to make a great mother. So today I got this video in my electronic mailbox and squeeeeealed:



I was so delighted! She did it perfectly! So I sent the next lesson:



Shannon threw some glasses on her and Gracie matched my French apology to a T:



I just about died. How awesome. I told Shannon, if I find myself a blond Frenchman to marry, this is what I can hope for in my future. I WOULD LOVE IT.

Thanks for making my Friday morning bright, ladies!

love,
*jenna*