The Rocker

R1 and I try to be calm about the wear and tear and general destruction that happens when there are a 4-year-old and a 2-year-old around.  Most of what we have we figure are just things, in the end, and what's more important are people.

Except my rocking chair.

It's beautiful.  It was a gift from my husband and my MIL and FIL (for those who are acronymially challenged, that's "mother-in-law" and "father-in-law") upon R2's birth.  And did I mention it's beautiful?  And comfortable.  And meaningful.  So I would think that it's no wonder that my children are constantly hearing me remind them to be careful around my rocker, to not eat near it, to not play around it with any object that might scratch it, etc.

Well.  One day, when I was doling out one of my frequent (and somewhat intense) reminders, R2 quipped back: "Mom, take a picture of the rocking chair so when you die you can always remember it."

Here's the picture :)