Even though Marie has helped to somewhat divide the Eve-worship that goes on around here, Eric and I still adore Eve's every action, catching words that fall from her lips like notes from heaven. When she utters a particularly precious gem, Eric and I give each other painful looks and he usually says, "I can't take any more cuteness!"
During our St George vacation, the older kids were lounging on the massive Hotel bed with us like sprawled-out kid-lumps, and we were lazily watching the wall-sized plasma screen with wonder and awe. Eve had her arms wrapped around the nearest body part of her Dad, which happened to be his feet. She lovingly cuddled up to his toes and suddenly took a thoughtful whiff, burying her nose between his feet. She looked up at him and said, "Dad, your feet don't stink. They smell like love!"
After spending way too much time on the computer, responding to e-mails, reading blogs, and checking out a fabulous sale at crazy8.com (I should really get a comission!), I lamented to Eve as she was looking over my shoulder, "Eve! I really need to get off the computer!" She paused and said to me sincerely with the slightly conscending tone of a mini-therapist, "Mom. . . just close your eyes and then I will turn it off for you."
Even though she's only 4, Eve can play the Wii with not only skill, but style and grace. As she plays, she burns off all of the cookies and candy and handfuls of cold cereal she sneaks with a continual up and down motion that is one-half kangaroo, one-half ballerina. Bowling is one of her favorite games, and she spins and twirls and kicks her leg up in the air after each turn--and it is all sub-conscious, much the same way I'm sure any Disney Princess would naturally play a Wii. After a few turns bowling last week, Eve got the record for the most number of pins knocked down and rubbed her glory in all our faces for hours. Eric teased her that he was going to knock down more pins than she had, and she snapped back, "Is that any way to talk to a record holder?"