Thanks for coming back for this late post. Squeaker and I arrived at Grammy's house on Saturday. Granddad and I piled into the car and headed north through the rain, sleet, snow, and cold to watch a basketball game. For the record, the Keydets won this round. Squeaker was a little upset that she didn't get to go, but given the amount of yelling (by both of us), she's probably better off not to have been there. She was a little nervous with the Daddy Person gone, so Blankie stayed with her most of the time. Squeaker tried hard at bedtime to convince Grammy that it wasn't time to goto bed. When Squeaker realized she wasn't going to win the argument. She said "Grammy go. And close the door." So she did.
Brite will tell the story of the Cookie Dough...
One of our new neighbors invited Squeaker and I over to make Christmas cookies this week. Squeaker is a fan of cookies, but she also really likes these neighbors and we have never been to their house. She likes their doggies and they have a beautiful horse which came to visit us at our house once. We mixed up all the cookie dough and she let Squeaker lick a little batter.
When my little friend pleaded for more, I explained that we shouldn't really eat the dough. I told her she would like the baked cookies much better, so she would have to be patient. Squeaker was sitting on the counter, so the doggies wouldn't lick her face and so she could help cut out the cookies. We gave Squeaker a cookie cutter so she could out some stars. Instead of using the cookie cutter, she bent over and did a face plant into the dough. She happily raised her flour covered face while she was chewing the bite she had taken out of the dough. Needless to say, I was extremely embarrassed! Our neighbor chuckled and after I cleaned off Squeaker's face, she promised not to do that again. It was great fun, and Squeaker thought the baked cookies were quite yummy.
Have a good week everyone.
Rather than celebrate the 100th blog post, the Daddy Person had decided to mark the 97th post instead. Squeaker marked the occasion by being a tough girl. She was running on the sidewalk and slid. Her tights got the worst of it. She has had a busy week adjusting to being home and not being surrounded by doting grandparents and great-grandparents, aunt and uncles. We have spent much of this week working with her on that most difficult of lessons, doing what we're told the first (or second time for that matter). When not working on that Squeaker has been practicing with being very sweet. I asked her if she wanted to get a present for Aunte Brite. With out missing a beat, she said "Yes a turtle and a alligator for daddy." Don't worry Brite, I'll keep pushing for a sweater.