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Thursday, July 15, 2010

questions, we've got questions

I have read that this age is the peak of questions. This age being just about four, that is, not 30 years or 8 months. Reading this information was...not necessary. I just knew it, in my bones. And my ears. Ow, my freakin' ears. I don't even turn on the radio in the car anymore because I'll just have to turn it down one nanosecond later to respond in some way. It feels almost like a reflex, gone terribly awry. I hope this is useful, developmentally, all the talking, because IT MAY NOT BE USEFUL IN TERMS OF SURVIVAL TO THE AGE OF FIVE. Or four. Or three years, 11 months.

Speaking of questions, the question is, do we sign Dylan up for Irish dance? That would be amusing, no? I was thinking about it, but they have tuition! That is expensive! Now I am not thinking about it anymore.

Ollie is like some kind of daycare superstar. Not currently, however, as he is asleep. For the night! Until 3am or whenever, but he has been technically put to bed. So I have to be technically put to bed now as well, which is good because then I'll stop typing. See? Good for everyone.

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