She'd say this when we'd arrive late to the house via bike, or if she'd wake up early before the dawn, or when the lights would go off in the car.
She'd vary it in so many ways: Uh-ohh eeaaa daaahhahahk, Uh-oh eaaah dahk! Dahahahak..
It was the first she was doing this kind of thing. It was a dance with her throat, and a dance with our reactions. She was messing with us.
Just a day or two before she died, she started with imaginary play. She'd hold nothing in her hands and bring it to us and say "I got one!" to which Leela would say, What color is it? and Rosalie would respond: Blue!
What kind of world is this? This heavenly time, when her mind is expanding, growing, becoming so socially alert, so clever, so playful, and this time now is frozen forever. We will never know Rosalie beyond these behaviors, a Rosalie whose cleverness is more sophisticated, whose language is precise, a Rosalie who isn't childish. It's a lovely, perfect time to have frozen, I suppose, but who would want that?