I distinctly remember taking this picture yesterday morning. She was having her first solid foods and loving it. No surprise. She loves loving things. I know it was just yesterday. Maybe the day before.
But then this morning this happened:
That same little baby that I had been feeding yesterday, with all her characteristic zeal, and as you can see, with no lack of panache or style, fed her sister breakfast while I made breakfast for everyone else. Well, while I made breakfast for everyone else, ran upstairs to tell her daddy to come down and see, took a million pictures, and rejoiced in the fact that I had a child old enough to help me. To actually help me. But wait. When did my baby get old enough to feed babies? How did this happen?
Those old ladies in grocery stores and cheesy country songs aren't kidding around when they say stuff like:
"Don't blink."
"The days are long but the years are short."
"Enjoy them. They grow up so fast."
Because, boy, it really does feel like it was yesterday...
