Olympian in Training

Foxy is my girl. Know how I know? Because she already knows where to find the snooze button on my clock radio. Nine more minutes Foxy. Good girl.

I also know she's my girl because on Saturday night, when Ali was working a singles' cocktail party in her kimono I got to babysit. It was a little weird. Have you ever had one of those moments when you are driving in a neighbourhood where you used to live and the randomly chosen music on your car radio is the same music that you used to listen to when you lived there? I have. I've had a few of them actually. Anyway, I was driving around the old neighbourhood in a gentle summer rain and Flock of Seagulls came on the radio. At some point during that song, Foxy fell asleep. Gotta tell you, those were the best days of my childhood and now Foxy can enjoy the same experience.

I'm not sure if this also indicates she is my daughter, but this morning she woke up at her usual hour, and very quietly tried to dismount her crib. Usually she fusses and all, but this time I guess she didn't want to wake us. She didn't stick the landing, but the difficulty score must have been pretty high. Luckily she landed on our bed mattress, unluckily she used her face. I guess that damn crib is no good now. She only used it for about a month. I'll probably have to turn it into a bed soon.