Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Fort Laney - No Samanthas Allowed


Dear Laney,

So, here's the funny thing about your relationship with Samantha, and by "funny," I mean strange and bewildering and more than a little irritating: You have decided that you're scared of Samantha. No matter how often we remind you that you outweigh her by at least ten pounds, and could walk away if you wanted, there is something about Sam that seems to strike fear in your heart.

Now, I'm not going to lie, the way she crawls is a little kooky. It's maximum energy output for minimum distance gained, and the overall effect is World's Most Precious Wind-Up Doll. I could watch her for hours. Something about having that little crawling girl following you around seems to FREAK YOU OUT and causes you to jog in place and scream. Today, it got so bad that you walled yourself up in a fort made from a barstool and a bunch of Peg Peg's packages.


After we ran a few errands in town, Samantha was so exhausted that she fell asleep in her car seat on the way home. Because Sam hasn't been sleeping too well on this trip, her folks were scared to move her and they camped out at the back of the car to make sure she was okay and that she wouldn't be snatched away by any of the Montana wildlife.


Speaking of bears, after Sam got up from her nap the Crossleys went for a walk down our road, where they heard bear sounds coming from the bushes. So they hitched a ride home in the back of a neighbor's truck. Montana is just one big memory-making machine, I tell you.


By the end of the day, you and Samantha had worked out your differences. You agreed to stop wailing like a banshee every time she looked at you, and Sam agreed to respect your personal space. Or maybe you were just brought together by your mutual love of an empty box.


Another successful day at Chez Burbach.

Love,
Mom

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