apologies aren't accepted here

I got a letter the other day from my little girl, Majoie, who I sponsor through Compassion International.  Her letters are very scripted--she's only six years old--so my favorite part of her letters is usually at the end where she asks me a question.  This time she asked, "When are you coming to Togo?"  If only she knew how much I long to come and meet her!

I also got a letter from my correspondence child, Cristian, several days ago.  He's fifteen years old, and I really enjoy his letters because he's much older and actually answers my questions.  We actually have conversations!  He is so encouraging to me in my faith, always sending me verses and telling me he's praying for me.  I just love getting letters from all of them.

Chloe asked me to tell her what my science teacher looks like.  When I told her his skin is about the same shade as mine, she automatically took that to mean that he is actually my twin brother and my mom left him at the hospital when "we" were born.  Not sure where Rachel fits into that picture...

Chloe was pretending to read a book we had lying around about marriage, and she told me: "Oh, you know what the book says?  It says that about six months after you get married, you get a baby sometimes!"  Then she told me that the book also said that "right after you kiss [at your wedding] you feel like you're married."

"If I ever get a Chihuahua, I'm going to name it 'Ouchie-Wa-Wa'."

She has this thing lately where, every time I say something's wrong with my physically, she has to go tell our mom.  "Chloe, I have a hang nail."  "Let me go tell Mama!"  "I don't feel very well."  "Mama!!!"  "My eye looks a little red."  Mama has to know.  It's a bit annoying--I have to constantly be in perfect health now. 

The other night Chloe gathered all of us to have a tea party at the table.  She'd watched the American Girl movie "Felicity" and wanted to recreate it.  She was making sure we were all very proper, and I accidentally added cream to my tea without realizing that she was the one who was supposed to do it.  She looked at me aghast and I said, "My apologies."  She lifted her nose primly and replied, "I'm sorry, but apologies aren't accepted at this tea party."