Friday, July 17, 2009
"I Love You" in the Language of Dastardly Darla
Spitting out a half-chewed chunk of avocado and trying to put it into my mouth. Messy, but touching.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Don't Sh*t Where You Sleep, My Friend
5.07pm. We are stirred by rumblings from the bedchamber of the formerly sleeping beast. Her noises are of the normal, "HEY! I'm awake! Come get me, won't ya!" variety. Nothing to be alarmed about. Moments later there is much more urgency in her call. Daddy sends sissy in to entertain her until we are ready to retrieve her. The smell is overwhelming. Daddy is called upon to report. "MOMMY!! There is poop EVERYWHERE!!"
Unfortunately the report proves accurate. There IS poop everywhere, including Dastardly Darla's hands, which she is repeatedly shoving into her mouth, then promptly wailing, we can only assume due to the foul taste. Pre-processed olives cover the nursery. An unsoiled diaper lies lonely in the crib.
Darla strikes again.
Unfortunately the report proves accurate. There IS poop everywhere, including Dastardly Darla's hands, which she is repeatedly shoving into her mouth, then promptly wailing, we can only assume due to the foul taste. Pre-processed olives cover the nursery. An unsoiled diaper lies lonely in the crib.
Darla strikes again.
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