(From a four year old preschooler, explaining why she needed to wear a “bra” (bathing suit top) under her shirt)
“I need it so I can have big boobies like Miss Michelle.”
(From a six year old kindergartener, when I swapped out my usual jeans and t-shirt for a dress at our Winter Holidays Pageant) “Miss Michelle, you look beautiful tonight…how come?”
(From a first grader, after doing his “water fountain” impersonation on my white blouse) “Miss N, I loooooooooooooove you!”
(From a teenage patient, after scrutinizing my face for an agonizingly long time) “You know, no matter what else, you’ve got really good eyebrows.”
(From a different teen patient, after walking past a clothing display at a department store) “I bet you’d be pretty if they let you wear real clothes at work.” (In fairness to her, our work uniforms were hideous)
(From my nephew, then age six, to me, then age 25, after he returned from visiting family out of state)
Nephew, leaping into my arms: “Aunt Mishi, I really missed you!”
Me: “Aw, I missed you, too, buddy! Wow, you’re getting so big!
Nephew: “But you can still hold me, right?”
Me: “Oh, I’ll always be able to hold you.”
Nephew: “And someday, when I’m real old, like twenty, and you’re dead, I’ll still remember you in my heart.”
Me: “….That…uh…that means a lot to me, bud.”
Yet people wonder how this:
became my default expression.