Alexis Responds

Remember that whole "I like to play in traffic and there is nothing you can do to stop me" phase? Despite the tears, screaming, fits, whispers, and stares, I held steadfast in my resolve. If Alexis was going to get hit by a car, then by god I was too. And just to make sure it worked out that way, she was holding my hand. Well, I survived the first round of that phase (I imagine it will be back when she becomes too ashamed of me to be seen holding my hand in public). For a glorious two weeks, we had complete compliance as we walked through parking lots and crossed streets. And then she had the idea of ideas. Smart like a fox, that one.

For the past few weeks, Alexis has instituted plan "Spaghetti Legs" whenever we are crossing a street, in a crowd, or she just generally decides she doesn't want to go where I want her to go. Instead of screaming, crying, and dragging her feet, she suddenly wills her legs to turn into cooked pasta. Down to the ground she goes, with me still holding her hand. The problem with this ingenious plan is that I got nothing. There is no counter maneuver that will lead to me getting my way. You see, if I let her fall to the ground, she starts rolling around in a fit of giggles. As I look on, praying that a car or large human doesn't run us over, she laughs and laughs and laughs. The only thing funnier? Me walking away. THAT'S freaking hysterical. And if I hold on to her hand and just drag her along? She wins in that instance, too. Being swung around by your hand is apparently better than any amusement park ride. "Weeeeeeeeee!"

People, I have been outsmarted by a one-year old.

News from Minot

It had been a while since I had checked in on the news in Minot. There was this little treat waiting for me yesterday:

BTW, this was the main news story on the website.

I'm totally not mocking the sweet little old lady. She rocks for volunteering to work with kids. Everyone should give it a try.

What I AM mocking, because it needs to be mocked, is the dream job the editor of that newspaper has landed. How do you suppose he or she feels at the end of the day when the big story is about a Grandma letting kids pick apples from her tree? I can just picture the editorial meeting:

"Anybody have a story?"

"Not me."

"Sorry, not really."

"I . . . uh . . . there's an old lady that's letting kids pick apples from a tree . . ."

"Perfect! Let's run it!"

Random Conversations

Daddy (to Alexis): Quit eating my watch. One--it's not very nutritious. Two--I don't want you eating my watch.

Me(to Alexis): Quit eating the dog food. It can't be good for you.

Me(to Alexis): Don't eat those baby wipes. Here, have some blueberries. They're better for you.

Daddy (to me): Alexis ate a strand of your hair. Want to know how I know?
Me: NO! . . . That can't be good for a kid.

Detect a theme?