Dear Isabella,
A few months ago, you got the tiniest scrape on your wrist going down the slide at Chick-fil-A. You showed me the boo boo and talked about it for months. I thought that you had finally forgotten all about it... until the other day.
We drove by Chick-fil-A. I asked you if you wanted to stop for dinner because Daddy had a work dinner. You exclaimed, "No, Mommy!" and showed me your boo boo. Seriously? Months later you were still thinking about that tiny scrape. I love you, Isabella.
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