Kick me.

Back in the days before our little puddingpants came along, we’d sometimes indulge in the tiniest bit of eyebrow raising when we saw other peoples’ houses. People who had kids, I mean. Littered with toys, those houses were. Littered. And, being the donkey tooters we were, we’d secretly pat ourselves on the back because WE weren’t going to be like them. OUR house was never going to look like that because OUR child was going to spend her time reading Moby-dick, and maybe occasionally playing with a few blocks, ones hand-carved from reclaimed Amazonian timber the proceeds of which would go toward supporting the thousand year-old traditions of endangered native tribes. And baby pandas. You’ll all forgive us won’t you? Have you seen our house lately? Have you seen our pretty pretty princess? She deserves everything and more. And the last laugh is on us. Drink up, drink up. Plenty more humiliations where that came from.

Zac and I have been thinking about Chloe's Christmas gift. We had a play kitchen set all picked out from C*stco. A pink retro one that looks almost identical to the one at a fancypants store with the same initials as “peanut butter” but at a fraction of the cost. (Just between us, okay? The stuff there is nice but geez, where are some people’s priorities? If we could afford that stuff, surely we’d buy the C*stco knock-off instead and give the cash difference to aid the poor and indigent, right?) So in preparation for her Christmas extravaganza, Chloe got a pot and pan play set that she loves to bang and stir and scatter all over the house. And then, over the weekend, I had a nightmare. We had gone to the store to make the big purchase and they were gone! Kitchens sets all gone. It's not even Thanksgiving yet. I told myself not to worry and calmly went to the store the next day. Gone. Called all the stores in the area. All gone. Deleted! From the system! Lordy lordy. Now I know how those people who get trampled trying to buy giggly red monster dolls feel. People I used to sneer at. I feel like I’ve failed at parenthood. My baby. My pooor poor baby. Somehow, she'll have to learn to live with a second best gift from her second rate parents. (In the interest of full disclosure you should know that Zac doesn’t see why this is all such a big deal. He probably won’t get it until the Chloe-meister is old enough for something that runs on a computer chip. Sniff.)

Some pics for you'se all.

A mistress of disguise. If you see a violin case, watch out!
What's a girl gotta do to get some food around here?
More! More! More! ("More" was Chloe's very first sign. My girl!)