The thing about Lucy is her hair:
It frames everything that she says and does because you're like, "wait, is that a 2-year-old talking to me or a middle-aged woman who just walked out of a salon after getting her hair blown out?". Is it Lucy or a young Candice Bergen?, you may wonder.
I assure you that I literally never do anything to it, I don't even brush it save for after her bi-weekly hose down in the tub (she is terrified of the bath since the incident.)
I think this haiku sums up Lucy's life pretty aptly:
Taking toys away
"I need more apple juice NOW"
Lives in pretend world
I have been awful at recording stuff that Lucy and Bernadette say to continue Too Much Talking (I'll work on it), but here are a few gems that have poured fourth from Lucy in the last few months that I could not NOT remember.
Walking into her room to a smell that indicated recent defecation:
Ana: Lucy, did you poop?
Lucy: Yes. Then I jumped up, get down, stand up, turn around. Then I smacked my head. It was bad. Really, really bad.
In response to something very coherent that Naomi said:
"Me-no-me just doesn't make any sense"
"Mama!! My skin is falling off!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"When I was a little baby, I had a baby in my tummy!"
Walking up to me excitedly:
Lucy: Hey, mom! You're shitty!
Lucy: You're shitty, mom!
Ana: What does that mean?
Lucy: It means that you're shitty!