Sweet, sweet girl.

For well over a year, Aubrey and I have a little nighttime ritual. We read books. Many, many books. Then we turn out the lights and rock for a minute and talk quietly before I put her into her bed. We generally talk about what she did that day. And the last thing I ask is, "What are you going to dream about tonight??" 389 out of 400 times she has said, "Gorillas". The only break came about July 4th, when it was briefly fireworks. She knows it's a funny game we play and we both giggle and she goes to bed.

Last night as we were talking she got serious for a minute and put her arms around my neck and said, "Daddy, I miss you when you go to your office". I told her I miss her too. Then I asked her what she's going to dream about. Answer? "I don't dream about gorillas anymore." "You don't?", I asked. "What do you dream about".

"I dream about daddy".

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Edit: The next morning I asked her what she dreamed about during the night. Answer? "Gorrillas".

Beautiful face?

Changing a smelly diaper. I guess I had my nose and face turned away from the unpleasant fumes wafting my way. Aubrey says, "Don't look away...I want to see your beautiful face!"