This is what Elena says when she wants to venture outdoors, and if we don't oblige screaming ensues, followed by a flood a tears and a dramatic enactment of hyperventilation. Even if it's raining. Or nighttime. Or the apocalypse. My child would gladly be smote with fire and brimstone for the chance at a mere moment outside this cursed box her father and I have the audacity to call her home. Me, I'd rather sit on my couch eating cookies and watching the Biggest Loser...but I think Elena might be onto something...
Here are some photos I took of her enjoying her nice, lush, toiled over for the last two years so it doesn't resemble a vacant overrun lot of weeds and crabgrass, yard.
Sand Transport.
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Sandboxes are the BEST!
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Pretty in her dress.
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In case you forgot we own a dog. She likes the sun, too.
Looking cute with her shades.
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Poking Buddy with a stick
Note: The dog BARKS incessantly and probably deserves the poking.
She is going to be a gardener, just like her gramma.
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