There Goes My Baby

At some point in the last few weeks, when I wasn't looking, someone took away my baby and left this kid here instead.

This kid who carries around a cellphone pouch as if it were a purse.

This kid who prefers to put her sunglasses on by herself.

This kid who sat still so Gramma Karen could paint her toenails.

This kid who is big enough to play with her cousin Scotty, who is almost two years older than she is.

This kid who walks around looking so grown-up in a pretty dress.

This kid who can get on and off her own riding toy, with just the tiniest bit of assistance ("hup").

This kid who likes to put her birthday crown on by herself, too.

(You want a closer look at those curls, don't you? Yes, I thought so. Here you go.)

This kid who will, upon occasion, simply sit in her own big-kid chair and look at a book.

This kid who also likes to sit in Grannie's rocking chair all by herself and rock back and forth.

Yes, it must have been some kind of strange child-swapping scheme. That's the only possible explanation. Right?