Before bed, Harry and Jack worked hard on some more card stock crafts-- these are ornaments they made to go on the laundry room door to replace our dried up fall leaf graph.
They took their work very seriously.
I look up, shocked.
He is staring at Taylor Swift on the cover. "That's Taylor Swift," I say.
"Taylor Swift?" he asks. "She's a real person?"
"Yes?" I say, unsure what the hell he's talking about.
"I hear her on radio Disney. I love her," he says. "I am going to marry her. She's a singer. Do you think she has a billion dollars?"
"She's a billionaire and a teenager? Wow."
I help him find her spread inside the magazine, and he looks at it until dinner saying. "Taylor Swift. Taylor. My Taylor," over and over.
After dinner we come back downstairs and he says he needs to check on his baby. I assume he means the doll he and Cooper have been playing with lately. Nope. He's still talking about Taylor Swift.
What the hell?