The other night we had dinner with my parents.
The girls and I arrived earlier in the afternoon for some quality time with the grandparents.
My dad helped Annie build a Lego Friends car and my mom helped Katie with her new bracelet loom.
I just sat back and enjoyed the view–and the wonderful people in it!
Mike was on his way from work to join us for dinner.
As Katie was working on her loom, she said, “I think my dad is here.”
The rest of us (especially me, ha) didn’t hear anything.
Sure enough, a couple minutes later, Mike walks in the door.
“I knew it!” Katie declared. “I heard your music playing in the car!”
Mike looked at her wide-eyed.
“You can hear my music from inside the house??”
I laughed and then shared the story of when I once borrowed Mike’s car with my sister Amy and then wee toddler Katie in tow.
I went to start the car, and loud music BLARED when I turned the ignition.
Katie’s arms and legs shot straight out from her carseat.
After the initial shock subsided, I quickly shut the music off.
We laughed about it.
My mom looked at Mike and half-jokingly said, “That’s child abuse!”
Mike laughed, pointed at his girls, and said, “Nah, these girls turned out okay, anyway.”
Then 6-year-old Annie, without missing a beat, leaned in and said, “What?”