Goofing around with Isabella (she’s six) at bedtime tonight, she makes a freaky, freaky face.

Me: You’re a strange little girl.

Iz: No. You’re a strange little girl.

Me: No, Honey. I’m a strange BIG girl.

Iz: Wrong, Daddy. You’re a strange little Pretty girl.

I laugh. Mommy laughs.

Mommy: Gotta post that one.

Iz: No, please don’t post that.

Me: You’re six. How do you know what “posting” is.

Iz (seriously, ominously): Oh, I know.

She’s six in the Facebook Age… Yeah, she knows.

And, yet. Did I tell you about putting Isabella (she’s six) to bed tonight?… Try to stop me.