homonyms?

yes but there's more to the term to describe the fact that they are pronounced differently and have different meanings like anto-something-homonyms.

he's this frenetic twerp who shills this rag called a "Sham-Wow."

Oh, I've seen him. He looks like he's in a mall somewhere, with his headset and his shadiness.

I found homograph but I thought there was a two-word term.

Missing Emily and Her Brains.

My brains were really very boring while I was in California, you realize. Heck, they're pretty boring now.

He looks like he's in a mall somewhere, with his headset and his shadiness.

Oh, I absolutely agree, but... don't you kind of want one anyway? I haven't been this tempted since the Magic Bullet (miniblender, not minivibrator).

Matilda and I had a Night last night. I was so sad to forgo the company of all these cool localistas (with bonus Laura Shapiro, even!), but her snuffy nose boded ill for the evening, and I was under the delusion that we'd have a quiet happy night puttering around and getting ready for bed.

Bah.

We were in the bathroom getting ready for tubtime--hot water, bath toys, lots of bubbles--when Hec made the mistake of locking the door. As soon as she heard the lock go snick, she was off in a storm of ireful tears and No tubtime!

After a few minutes of coaxing and begging I said, "Fine," and turned off the water.

Matilda stopped crying, looked astounded, and said, "Mommy tubtime?"

"Will you do tubtime with me?" I asked.

"No!" she said indignantly.

"Well, I'm not doing tubtime alone."

She looked at me like I was clearly either insane or mentally deficient, gestured at the tub, and said, "Bubbles!" Seriously, Mom, how can you pass up a tub full of this? Good God, woman, you must be mad!

Many hours (and nowhere near enough sleep) later, I'm still cracking up at her certainty that obviously Mommy was going to take a bath alone, and the only possible reason Mommy could have for refusing was that she'd somehow failed to notice that the tub was full of bubbles.

There were also more tears and a time out, but they weren't so funny, so let us never speak of them again.

My friend loves her bullet blender. Particularly because she's on a diet right now and making lots of fresh stuff in it is very handy.

I'm still cracking up at her certainty that obviously Mommy was going to take a bath alone, and the only possible reason Mommy could have for refusing was that she'd somehow failed to notice that the tub was full of bubbles.

Adults! We miss the most obvious things!

Wow. I still can't believe she can talk. She used to be a reason for you to wear a particular cut of awesomely fabulous clothing! And now she has talking? And timeouts?

Adults! We miss the most obvious things!

When I refuse to back up the Tivo so she can see the creepy tap-dancing pig on Teletubbies for the nine hundredth time, she looks at me with great concern and gently presses the remote into my hands, pointing at the button I need to push. It can't possibly be that 899 times was 898 times too many; clearly the actual problem is that between 899 and now I forgot how to do it, so she has to tenderly and lovingly remind me.