This morning R went through our living room periodicals basket and very helpfully pulled out the entire backlog of issues I haven’t read.
Her favorite phrase for the past few days is “thank you!” As she pulled out each unread paper and magazine, she looked at it for a moment, cried “thank you!” and tossed it aside. Until she got to this one—a crisp London Review of Books from September. This one she pointed at me accusatorily.
And said, “THANK YOU!”
Then we had lunch.