Five...Maybe Three Hours

When I went to pick Troy up from daycare today, Misha ran up and gave me a huge hug. Then she said, “I’m really going to miss Troy. My house is so far away.”

“Is it?” I responded.

“Yeah, it’s five hours away,” she said, holding up five fingers.

“That’s really far away.”

“Well, maybe it’s only three hours away,” she amended, dropping two of her fingers.

About that time, Troy came walking up and Misha gave him a big hug. “I’m really going to miss you, Troy. My house is three hours away, so I won’t be able to see you.”

Troy returned the hug and said, “Did you see my daddy’s shirt? He’s the Flash!”

Misha turned to look at my shirt. “Whoa,” she said, all caring about how far her house was was gone with this new information. You’ve got to love talking to three-year olds!