Savannah

Savannah is our beautiful, inquisitive, bold, youngest child. She holds that honor by a mere 30 seconds over her brother Nate. When she wants to be heard, she can be. She talks on the phone, just like me, walking around with one hand on her hip or gesturing into the air. She has the most compelling frown I've ever seen. Savannah hates dresses, but loves all things pink. Her daddy is her best friend. She's working hard at her L, Ch and Sh sounds. She screeches at her clothes when they don't cooperate as she dresses herself. She draws pictures non-stop... mostly detailed pictures of our family, but sometimes of the universe. It is amazingly fun to watch all of my children develop more into who they will be. The challenges and sheer exhaustion that comes from parenting these four more than compensated by the presence of their company and the personalities they each bring to our table.

Yesterday, at the dining hall (which I LOVE), Savannah was staring down at her plate. Buttered noodles, sliced peaches, and a roasted chicken drumstick.

Savannah: "Mom? How do you think they killed this chicken?"

Me: "I don't know. How do you think they did it?"

Savannah: "Hmmmmm. I think they took a stick and beat it, then they took a knife and stabbed it in the neck. Then they put it in a big pot with hot, hot water. Then they pulled out all the feathers. Then they took the knife and cut it some more and used their hand to pull out all the insides. Then they put it in the oven and cooked it."

Me: "Wow. That sounds like a lot of work."

Savannah: "Yep. But it sure is yummy!"

I guess she remembers more of Bundibugyo than I thought...