Bonkers

Wow, it looks like I have even fewer readers than I thought--or maybe just fewer readers than I thought with literary pretensions. I'll leave it up for a couple more days, just to see if there are any stragglers out there, and give you the answers next week.

In the meantime, why don't I tell you a quick story about Evelyn. She's started to really figure out how this world works in the past few weeks. From walking, to putting things inside of other things, to refusing to eat certain foods at certain times (I don't think there's a food out there that she's consistently refused, except for the "meat" baby food. After tasting those items, I can understand why). We'll often find things where we didn't expect them, like a screwdriver in the refrigerator, or a stuffed animal in one of our pots. And of course, getting into the bathtub can be quite an adventure as well, just because we're never sure what might actually be in there.

The other day, Megan and I were having a conversation about, oh, I don't know what. Evelyn, as is her wont, decided that she needed either or both of our attention right then. And I mean, RIGHT THEN. She didn't take kindly to our admonishment to wait a few seconds, seeing as she doesn't understand the concept of time and all, and so decided to get our attention in a more forceful manner. She walked over to our bathroom cabinet, stood extremely close to it, and bumped her head gently into it. And by gently, I mean VERY gently--I don't think it would have bruised an overripe avocado. Then, she turned to us and cried, loudly, as if saying, "see what happens when you don't pay attention to me? I bump my head and get hurt!"

Megan and I were both trying not to laugh at this point, and needless to say, Evie got what she wanted--our attention. Since then, she's done it a couple more times, never hitting her head hard, but just enough to pretend that she's hurt. Ah, parenting. . .