Thanks for asking

This morning H asked me if I was tired. "Yes", I said. "Thanks for asking." She burst out laughing that crazy deep machine gun staccato that she has when shes laughing really hard. She made me repeat it five times- then, barely able to say the words through her laughter,"Ask me if I'm tired." I oblige- she spits out "yes! thanks for asking!" What a wacko. Seems like my side of the family's bizzaro sense of humor has seeped into another generation.

S is testing my sense of humor and giving me gray hairs by the bucketful. She is TWO. No, not yet calendarwise, but is exhibiting text book two year old behavior, and boy is it terrible. She is incredibly cute, and whip smart and she does make me laugh- she is so sweet, I love to watch her care for her entourage of kitties- I can't help but pick her up and squeeze her many times during the day and must look like a total freak the way I'm always smelling her hair and sucking in that baby smell. Its the flip side of tantrums at the drop of a hat, combined with the recent how to sleep amnesia shes been having are pushing me closer to the edge. She is a demanding, neat freak tyrant who, if she had the words, would be following me around all day yelling "I NEED IT NOW!" She does have the words to say "uh-oh! UH-OH!!" about anything that's on the floor that shouldn't be, and in this house that's lot.

So lets see- H is back at school, I've been to the bank, the post office, Target- I have forgotten again to return the library books, I'm procrastinating paying bills (and finishing the financial aid application for where H might go to Kindergarten, and also avoiding doing the taxes that have to be done early also for said potential kindergarten) we're officially back. The fun and games of slacker late December are over, yeah yeah happy new year, now get to work.