That picture is from about two years ago...maybe more. Those are Wrenny's tan legs in her brand new pink shoes that she just had to have (they are long gone). And I love those little legs...
Somehow a game formed between the two of us...I started grabbing her thighs to tickle them and called it "checking her pork chops." This poor child is going to start Kindergarten in the fall and, when the teacher asks "what are these called" while pointing to her legs, Wren will yell with all her might, "PORK CHOPS!" I already blame myself...
But I love her pork chops! There is something about chubby little girl thighs that just wraps up the whole joyfulness of toddlerhood. Maybe it's the last bit of "baby" that hangs on in a body quickly turning into a "girl" and no longer a "baby."
One of Wrenny's pork chops has a birth mark (so adorable) which we talk about a lot because I have one too and I don't want her to feel about hers the way I felt about mine as a kid (I used to ask my dad to cut it off...what's funny is it's on my butt - who sees it {but The Butcher...maybe}?)
I love to squeeze them and watch her wiggle and giggle with glee. I love a good "pork chop check."
Check these pork chops from last summer...
Her pork chop cup runneth over...
or - pork chops in a bucket...
But those pork chops are disappearing. It makes me sad. She is fast approaching 5 and a half... Kindergarten in the fall... starting to read books... no longer a baby, for sure.
And she's been doing gymnastics which is making them disappear even more quickly.
What am I gonna do without those pork chops? (sigh)
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