So I can't just keep calling her The Baby, since eventually she won't be one any more, and very eventually there might even be another one around to confuse things--not that I can imagine such a development now. My memory might be shot from hormones and sleep deprivation, but it's not so shot that I can't remember, say, last night. I will forget eventually, and you'll be able to tell because I'll start entertaining the notion of another little creature to call The Baby.
But I don't want to refer to her by her actual name on here because I have a chronic, low-grade case of Internet Paranoia, and I don't want us to be googlable. This is too bad, because all the funny songs we've been making up for her would be good for at least a couple days of posts this month. Suffice it to say, her name rhymes with dances and enhances and glances and pantses. Extrapolate hilarious lyrics on your own.
So, the need for a pseudonym arises. Since she's an enthusiastic eater with not much finesse or regard for table manners, her meals often end up all over her face and running down her neck. And since her meals are always the same thing, she ends up bathing in milk more often than a certain historical queen. She's also similarly worshiped by her loyal subjects, and her beauty is renowned for blocks around. So, Cleo it is.
Monday, November 03, 2008
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3 comments:
Have you considered calling her the Swamp Fox? There's legitimate family history in there.
I'm stuck on Cleo for the baby, but I think you just named her father for me. Thanks!
Whew, I am glad I went back and read this post. I thought you had had another kid. While I only missed reading your blog for a few short months. {short as in time flew by, not like Feburary}.
signed
ur Crazy Oldest Ca Cousin
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