fashion plate

Margaret, disappointed that Casper is staying at karate: Can we go pick up baby Cinq now, so I can hold him and cuddle him and give him all my toys?

M: This my rocket ship! 1, 2, blast up! I gone for long time -- I go a moon!

M, seeing an enormous construction crane from a distance: Look at the really big ladder! Go up high . . . higher . . . higher . . . up . . . up . . . down . . . down.

Look, Daddy -- a fire truck! [actually, it was every pickup truck we passed]

Referring to a little spat with a brother: I want him to stay in the car and in the house, but him don't.

For the record, we fiddled with the color of Greta's eyes in these last two photos.  They are light, but not this fluorescent.