Rachel Taylor

Rachel, my witty four-year-old niece. We spent two whole days together.

She played dead on the floor of the rental car agency.

We played with balloons, painted our toenails, and went swimming.

I took her to Nana's house where she played with her three boy cousins for hours and hours.

She's my best girl; I love her like crazy!! She's so clever, too.
Over lunch, my mom asked me, "Did you ask your dad about the C-A-T? He can't live at my house anymore and he needs a place to stay."
I told her I hadn't, I would later.
In the car, Rachel asked if we could call my dad. I handed her the phone.
"Hi Grandpa? Can Mr. Zieglar live at your barn outside?"
It took her about five minutes to explain who Mr. Zieglar was--she got the point across without ever saying the word "cat."
She hung up. Still, without mentioning anything about the cat to me, she simply asked me to dial my mom's phone number for her.
"Hi Nana? Grandpa Paul said it's ok for Mr. Zieglar to live at the barn, but he has to live outside by the hay and not inside the house. Ok? Ok."
She was just so stinkin' cute. She makes things happen.