all told, she's a considerate fallen god

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Squawk sings — constantly, about whatever she last overheard, or whatever stray thought passes through her head, or who knows where she gets her inspiration. I don't. This morning… this morning I overheard her crooning a dirge to Ani about hairballs.

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Yesterday Squawk was questioning me about ambulances. She knows they're for treating sick people, and whenever she sees one she'll put on her face of earnest sympathy and proclaim "Someone's feeling sick!" — but yesterday she wanted to know why this imaginary person was feeling sick. (We've been in the "…whyyyyyy?" phase of toddlerhood for […]