UH-OH

Dear Hagen,

Sometime during our stay in Georgia, you learned the word, "uh-oh." Everything was uh-oh. And just a few hours after you learned to say "uh-oh," Laney started answering, "Uh-oh is right, Hagen." You're a regular comedy duo.

By our second or third day in Alabama, Granny Jack said, "I'm about tired of that 'uh-oh.'" You would pull all the cookbooks off her shelf, sit in the middle of the pile, and then say, "Uh-oh!" We tried to explain that "uh-oh" only applies to accidents, not on-purposes.

Today, we put you in a stroller and pushed you through the Crystal Bridges Art Museum in Bentonville, Arkansas. You didn't have on socks, and chubby baby toes are like catnip to old women, so grandma-types all the way through the museum kept walking up and pinching your feet. Peg said she was going to put your socks back on in self-defense.

You "uh-oh"ed your way through Early 20th Century Paintings, and an Exhibit on women's portraits. It was an interesting anthropological experiment - You would uh-oh, and ten times out of ten, the complete stranger nearest you would uh-oh back.

The paintings were great, but the performance art was better.

Love,
Mom