(Editor's note: I found this in our saved but unpublished drafts, loved reading it, and so am publishing it without Eric's permission because he is in Mexico and can't stop me. It was written in March of 2009.)
Emily, I just want to take a minute and let you know that in the church nursery, you are legen - wait for it - dary. You have a reputation that has spread among all the nursery volunteers who have met you. Ever since your infant days, you have apparently been a model child while in nursery. According to Hannah, who plays with you on most Sunday mornings, you have only ever cried once, and on the very morning your mother and I were volunteering. When she told us this, your mother and I both sort of just sat there and said "Really? Are you sure you're not thinking of some other baby? Ours is the squirmy little child who doesn't ever sit still". Don't get me wrong, you are a great kid, but at home you cry crocodile tears if one of us dares to leave you in a room by yourself while we go make some dinner or something. I saw one of the other nursery volunteers once outside of church, and he right away asked if you were always so happy and well-behaved. On other occasions, I've dropped you off, and the volunteers say things like "you don't need a pager, do you?". For some reason, you really like it there, and I think I know why.
This may scare your mother a bit, but I think it's because you're just like me. Friends and family often tell me that you look just like me, but I think your personality is what's really just like me. New people and places are exciting and interesting, and that is just what the church nursery has to offer: different volunteers and kids regularly, and more toys than you could ever explore in one morning. At home you are stuck with the same toys, the same rooms, and the same two parents who won't let you use your toys to play "does it float?" in the toilet bowl. That's why nursery, car rides, runs in the jogging stroller, and any type of store always make you happy: they are all new and different places for you to explore. Just like me, you are a bit ADD, and don't seem to have the instinct to just turn your brain off and slow down. This is where your mother usually rescues the both of us. She will often give you a sippy cup and read you a story on her lap until you're ready for a nap or bedtime. She does the same for me too, but I usually get a peanut butter sandwich and have to read the story to myself.