“They’re leggings!” Brenna insists each time I inadvertently call her new base layer long or thermal underwear. I still think she’s walking around in underwear. But it’s fine.
We all slept well enough and have had a lazy morning as we believe these trips require. While my brothers and I are packing up, Brenna has been carving something in the picnic table. We caught sight of a “B” and began making guesses.
Are you writing “Brenna”?
“Nope,” she says.
And on it goes