our eldest daughter decreed when she was still around 5, that there should be a certain way by which we should knock on our front door. it has to follow that rhythmic sound, or else, she said, "you're not family".
and so part of our ritual every night when we come home is to gently knock 7 times in that measured taps on the door. but tonight, our daughter, now 7, was a little more rigorous in her little game.
me: knocks on door that says "i am part of this family"
unna: "who's that?"
me: "it's me, mom."
unna: "if you're really mom, what celphone do you have?"
me: "it's an iphone."
unna: "what color is your case? white or red?"
unna: "ok, i'm convinced. you're really mom."
then she opened the door and flashed her naughty, toothy smile.
it's really so nice to be home.