Since The Golden Pig's arrival, we are constantly marveling over how big The Wog is. She feels so much heavier and looks so tall and solid and sturdy. Yesterday was very hot and she was lounging in her diaper on the couch, sprawled out across her father; her body nearly covered all of his. She just looked like such a big kid--certainly not like a baby, but not even like a toddler anymore. Without even thinking about the words coming out of my mouth I told Marc, "She's a MONSTER!" The Wog's reaction was immediate; in a combination of outrage, alarm and dismay, she instantly responded, "I not a monster! I Pah-yee!" ("Pah-yee" is how she pronounces her name.) And she is no monster; she is our lovely little girl who, apparently, picks up on everything we say.
Perhaps because I'd called her a monster and felt really, REALLY bad about it, I felt inclined to offer up her very first soft serve ice cream at a local fair yesterday. Here she is, enjoying it. Afterwards, she danced and we took some video. If I can figure out how to post it, I will do so.
In this picture, The Golden Pig is being carried around all Michael Jackson-style.
And here you can see his smoodgy little face: