Small child is delightful.

There is a certain "things being right in the world" feeling that comes of watching our two-year-old happily pushing the Kik-Step stool across the floor to the other room, and doing the occasional half-stumble that happens when one is small and leans slightly too hard on a Kik-Step stool and it stops rolling for a moment.

(I have many emotional memories tied up in Kik-Step stools, apparently.)

Also, I'm told that once she got it into the other room, there ensued this conversation:
T: I on tep tool!
S: Yes, you're on the step stool.
T: I tall! I taller dan you!
T: I taller dan cat!
T: I taller dan Mama. Dan Mommy! Dan Papa Brooks!
S: You're really tall!
T: I taller dan Papa! And I jump on youuuuuu!

A bit before this, she'd also come into the dining room to carefully fetch the large heavy book of Christmas songs off the dining table -- it was just at the edge of her reach, and also heavy enough that it took most of her small-child concentration not to drop it -- so that she could play the game she invented of picking random pages in it and asking Suzanne to sing the song thereupon. Which, as far as Suzanne is concerned, is the best game ever.