Baby Genius

Paige hasn't been sleeping well this week. Last night she was up from about 1 until 3:30 or so. John and I were both up with her, trying various things to make her happy, but nothing was really working. Finally, John got a teething ring from the fridge and gave it to her--instant happiness. She actually looked grateful that we'd finally figured it out (duh, she's only our third child).

After she'd gnawed on the thing for 10 minutes or so and seemed sufficiently numb and satisfied with the size of the drool puddle she'd left on my side of the bed, I pulled her over to me to nurse her a little bit and get her settled in. She nuzzled against me, kind of cooing and babbling, and in the midst of her baby talk, I swear to goodness, it sounded just like she said "Goodnight, Daddy." I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but John answered, "Goodnight Paige," so he'd heard it too.

I know, I know...she didn't really say it, but we'll pretend she's a genius anyway.