I always find it a little annoying when people compare their babies to teenagers and say how they're in for it if the kid is like this already. And yet...she found the volume knob on the stereo. I turn it down, she turns it up. I change the station, she changes it back. Plus she wants to talk on the phone all day long.
Aaron programmed his many phone numbers (the house, one office three days a week, another office the other two, plus a brief flirtation with a second cell phone, although that didn't work out) into our cell phone, which I use for the most part during the day. I tried to call him yesterday and was cheerfully greeted with Kelly's voicemail. You can't get rid of me that easily, my friend.
Dylan will not eat peaches or my delicious homemade mac and cheese or peas or broccoli or cream cheese or pears or non-pureed carrots or tortilla or beans. Maybe she was looking for more of a kick because I gave her a big bowl of not unspicy Indian food for dinner last night and she slurped it right down and signed for more (her second day of using the sign, very proudly). Then she got some in her eye and was less pleased with the dish.
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