Pazo = YUM! I recommend getting...one of everything! It is all delicious!

Aha!

P-C, I don't think we can. Sorry. Are you coming to brunch on Saturday?

YUM! I recommend getting...one of everything!

I plan on it. Food and booze. I'll be completely worthless at work tomorrow, but I'm hoping that no one will notice.

Oh, I hope you can make brunch!

Finishing up the last bit of packing, last cup of coffee, then brushing teeth and heading to the airport.

Question, lipgloss in carryon?

I know that the word "toddler" comes from the Latin Toddlus Horribilus. I know that most 2 year olds change their mind on a whim, depending on how what they have compares to what they want.

Still doesn't stop me from wanting to just scream and have my own tantrum sometimes.

Scene: Breakfast Room - Chez Miracleborn (Note: this is really the living room)

Mommy: Emeline. Do you want toast or cereal?
Emeline: Cere-el! Pleath!
Mommy: Ok. Do you want it with milk?
Emeline: Yeth, pleath!

Mommy prepares bowl of Kix. Mommy places bowl of Kix in front of toddler. Toddler looks into bowl, says, "No thankth." Mommy starts toward bowl of cereal. Emeline decided in her pointed little toddler brain that Mommy is not moving fast enough.

Emeline shouts, "I DON YIKE IT!" and violently pushes cereal bowl to the side, slopping Kix and milk all over Mommy's John Grisham novel (The Street Lawyer, if anyone really cares.) and The Penny Saver.

Mommy: Emeline! Saying 'No thank you" was nice. I understood what you meant. You didn't have to push the cereal bowl. That made a mess and was mean. Say you are sorry.

Emeline looks down, bottom lip poking out.

Emeline: Thorry.
Mommy: Thank you. Now, do you want toast instead?
Emeline: No, thankth. I'm fine.
Mommy: Would you like cereal without milk?
Emeline: Yeth pleath.

Mommy prepares bowl of dry cereal. Places it in front of Emeline. Emeline eats Cheerio with handy pen nearby. Mommy refuses to care. Mommy eats bowl of Kix already made. Emeline takes exception to this and runs to Mommy.

Emeline: MINE! MIIIIIIIIINE! MIIIIIIINE!

Emeline grabs side of bowl, slopping cereal all over Mommy's (Ok, really Daddy's) pajama pants. Emeline gets hollered at to stop. Emeline stomps off to kitchen where Mommy has left the quart of milk on the table. Fuck.

Emeline: I wan it!
Mommy: Do you want milk in your cereal?"
Emeline: Yeth, pleath.

Mommy pours milk into bowl, hands daughter spoon. Daughter continues eating Cheerios with her pen. Mommy goes to computer to relate tales of toddlus horribilus with others as a grim warning to, for the love of God, start masturbating.

Hm. Is it too early in the morning to start drinking?

(directed to Aimee)

BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!

Poor Aims. Sorry. Just...BWAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!

See, that is what Saturdays were like when you were at the dealership. How I prayed for naptime and wept when she didn't want to sleep.

Because it's past noon here, if that helps...

Is it too early in the morning to start drinking?

How's that saying go? It's 10am somewhere?

BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!

Shut it, you.

Ellie's not quite as verbal but we are working really hard to teach her that when you don't want your food anymore, you don't have to throw it. Or dump it. We are successful maybe 70% of the time.

It's times like this that I'm really happy about having dogs and tile floors. It almost makes up for all the hair and the guaranteed breaking of anything dropped.