Happiness is.... a COMB!!

Evan found my purse. He dumped the contents on the floor, and amidst the coins-- found a comb! The look on his face was one of extreme mirth and wonderment: what is this thing for? So, I showed him. I sort of wish I wouldn't have. The comb is his current favorite toy. He'll pick it up, smile, say something that sounds like, "Gurdygurdygurdy. Geedlegeedle," and then wait for Andrew or I (usually me) to proffer a head forth for combing. The problem being, of course, that he lacks the dexterity to comb properly. So, while he tries to make me look so pretty, he mostly succeeds in winding my hair around the comb multiple times, or creating snarls the size of Madonna's during the "Lucky Star" era. However, I do welcome the tangles. It is really cool to watch Evan learn about the function of things.

Sounds like all you are voting like mad! Way to go! There's a need for change. As a rule, I don't vote for frat boys, beer-bongers, or adults whose parents still carry them around in a bitch sling. And those criteria are not just for Presidents. I use the same set when voting for Homecoming King.

Root veggies are in season and all is well with the world!