Dear Laney,
In the process of learning to walk and to safely dismount from the furniture, you've taken a few tumbles in the past few days. You've splatted in the driveway, banged your chin on the coffee table, hurled yourself off the couch, tripped on the bottom stair, and gotten your finger caught in the spatula drawer. You're starting to look like an extra from "Fight Club." And all this in addition to the perma-bruise on the middle of your forehead from various tantums. Peg Peg says I should document all this in writing so the authorities can't accuse us of mistreating you.
Peg Peg's big on paperwork.
Today was a nice sunny Fall day, so you helped* me pick tomatoes in the greenhouse. Then you sorted all of the tomatoes using some internal quality control guide that I can't begin to understand. At the end of the day, only about 20% of the tomatoes made the cut. You get this from Tex.
Thanks for being patient with me this week, and for soldiering on in the face of walking-related adversity.
Love,
Mom
* Includes: poking holes in the tomatoes with your fingers, picking the green ones and throwing them, taking bites out of the little ones and then spitting them out, etc.
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