Curly Girl has a language all her own. Most of what she says only makes sense inside her own little head.

This evening Curly Girl and Bookworm were spinning around on the living room recliner (their version of a merry-go-round) when Curly Girl began to shout, “My crunchy, my crunchy! Look, Mommy, I found my crunchy!”

Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about! Upon closer inspection I found in her hand a hair scrunchie. It had found its way under the chair cushion. Now I know what a crunchy is!