when the cup hits the floor, when she slips her own shoes off, when she takes off her winter hat, when I drop something, leave something behind, spill something.
when I meet her at the door to pick her up, when she finds her toy cell phone and 'answers' it, when her dad comes home from work.
when she points at her "artwork", or at my paintings
her hair can hold a bow. it needs a daily brushing through the tiny curls. a shoulder shimmy while she dances, a stomped foot to a heavy bass, a slow spin to the tunes of Carole King, an "ah duh" (all done) at the end of dinner, a wet sticky kiss at bedtime.