An hour after I'd put the kids to bed I came upstairs and heard the girls talking to each other. Tonight, neither of them had come out to tell on the other for calling them a chicken or a smarty pants or bossy pants. That usually happens at least 3-10 times a night. I looked toward their door and saw that the closet light was shining underneath the crack. I went in to find this...
|Two sisters talking on the phone to each other|
|Just like best friends, because that's what they are, even though they don't know it yet|
|I guess Jenna got a little tired of the rambling|
It's the little things, always the little things. I love my girls, they are precious!