…of which she’ll eat, like, ten percent. My money’s on the apple sauce, maybe a nibble of cheese (picture a “Honey I Shrunk the Mouse”–sized rodent), maybe part of one cracker, and if it’s a good day, she opened the carrot bag.
Goddess only knows what regulates her appetite. The [...]

“…but my hips are that sassy.” That’s what she said. Quote, end quote.
She’s been taking to planting her hands on her hips for emphasis. Only three years old here, people. Already feeling her power. I’m just sayin’.
We’re working on her popping her hips in preparation for an upcoming trip to [...]

Elmo’s World?

Okay, no. Different tack. Sleater-Kinney?*

Nope, Carmen. To be exact, Carmen’s first dittie, “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle.” A.k.a. the “Habañera,” here rendered with signature gusto by La Divina.
Last weekend we heard the Metropolitan Opera’s Saturday radio broadcast of Bizet’s ever-popular opera as I was making blueberry pancakes, [...]

Can’t even remember what she was chuckling at. Could have been:
“Why did the chicken cross the road?” (At which I relax my defenses a little bit: it is a chicken, after all, and not a poopy diaper)
“To get to the poopy diaper!” (Aaargh! Fooled again!)

“I’m relaxing with a little piece of stale bread,” says she.
[Copped on the fly (and from the hip) using this time-tested photojournalistic technique.]

Her first experience of a pun in print.
She’s noodling around, typing letters, pretend words, and such like. Feeling the extendo power of pressing a key and seeing a huge version of the letter pop into existence in front of her. (Arial Black, size 72 font, on a Word doc in landscape, [...]

At right: Fig. A. The Triangle of Safety at work.
All’s I’m sayin’ is, it’s not like the moment she started peeing directly into the toilet — rather than into the bazillionth, or the bazillion-and-oneth diaper that I fastened onto her — everything was suddenly all peaches and cream. In my haste to schedule a [...]