Uh-oh what?

This morning I awoke to the sound of Aida partying in her crib. That's not unusual.

But I've begun sticking one stuffed animal in there after she goes to sleep at night so that she wakes up all surprised. "Frog? Frog?! HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE? Nevermind the details. Let's PARTAY!"


From my bed this morning, sprinkled through her normal babbling about the frog and what-not I could hear her saying "Uh-oh. Wha? Uh-oh. Wha?"

I smiled and shook a dozing Steve to tell him what happened yesterday morning when I walked into her room to her usual chorus of, "Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Uh-oh!"

That's what she likes to say when blankies fall to the ground and stuffed animals fly from the crib.

"Uh-oh! Uh-oh!"

Like every morning, as I approached her crib, she stood there excitedly, bouncing on the mattress in her too-small jammies, sandy hair flopping over her eyes, hands grasping the wooden railing.

"Uh-oh!" she said through the dim light, pointing at her blankies and the stuffed frog on the floor. "Uh-oh!"

"Uh-oh what?" I responded playfully. "Uh-oh what?"

To me, it was a fleeting moment, forgotten the second I lifted her from her crib and opened the shades and placed her on the ground to watch her scurry away to whatever excitement might await in the next room. But apparently not to her. To her, it was a new phrase work into her repertoire.

"Uh-oh. Wha?!"