... her winter mittens, her favorite pink scarf, her boots are warm and safe in the closet at home. For the record, the Daddy person didn't just overlook her preparations. Those are my driving gloves and the pictures are a little blurry because I am shivering in a shell.
We are having a nice weekend despite the weather. We had buckwheat "yummy-tummy-blueberry pancakes". That's her name for them not mine. She's been doing well with making it through the night. The trick seems to be taking her to the bathroom somewhere between ten and midnight. Usually I carry her (while she snuggles and pats my back) and then "insists" on "walking" herself back to bed. I say "insists" because she takes off with out a word as soon as you have pulled her pjs up. I say "walked" in the high tradition of drunken sailors throughout history.
Don't tell Brite, but I let her play with my computer for a few minutes. I helped her with the spelling but she typed up her first document.
Squeaker did get bored and freestyle a little bit after the first three words (yes, I can count, but cut off her name). It is about time for me to dig my car out. Have a good week.
