Somewhere, right now, Sam is pointing at something. This is her new thing for the week, and she enjoys it immensely. When you bring her into a room she’ll start systematically pointing at everything, including the cat, the ceiling fan, the light, the floor, the sofa, the television, the magazine rack, the coffee table, the carpet, the lamp, the DVD player, her toys, my toys, books, the chair, the vent, the refridgerator, the window, the door, and the cat again. Then she’ll start over. She doesn’t say anything, even when we name everything she gestures towards. She just points. It’s cute, really, and if she learns to point at other people she may have quite a career ahead of her in politics.
But Sam is getting pretty good at using her fingers for things besides pointing, as well. She’s gotten adept at feeding herself bite-sized foods like cheese cubes, Cheerios, vegetables, and just about anything else we give her. Cottage cheese, however, is apparently gross. The rub is that Sam has gotten to where she can shovel the food in faster than her toothless head can chew it up and swallow it. So if I put a pile of Cheerios down in front of her, she’ll use both hands to cram them into her face by the fistful, fast as she can until she looks like the world’s most fiber-rich chipmunk. At which point she’ll open her oat-filled mouth and squawk for more.
Squawking aside, Saturday was fun. Geralyn went down to Tiajuana with her play group and spent most of the day there drinking margaritas and trying to explain to entreprenureal little Mexican kids that no, for the last time, they didn’t want to buy any Chicklets. I didn’t know exactly why one would go to Tiajuana other than being able to buy two and a half gallons of vanilla extract for $1.25, but I was glad to take care of Sam while Ger was out with her friends. We spent a good chunk of the day out as I mentioned yesterday, and the balance was spent with one of us cramming dry cereal into her maw.
When Geralyn returned she had a giant smile and a bag full of greasy churros. Churros, for those of you who don’t know, are these oily ropes of dough, deep fried and caked with sugar. I could tell right away that they would be awesome by the way they had made their brown paper bag almost transparent just by coming in contact with it. I was right and I quickly used them to demonstrate Sam’s recent eating habits.
Sorry, I’m supposed to be talking about Sam, aren’t I? Well, here’s some pictures:
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This picture cracks me up. Sam is all decked out in her denim jacket with fuzzy pink collar, and the expression on her face looks like she’s just came back from Vegas where she went on a fabulous, five-day bender involving copious amouns of gin, tranquelizers, and churros. Give me a bottle of baby Tylenol and put me to bed, Dad, I’m all partied out! Note to my mother: Sam did not, of course, go on any such bender. She’s only allowed half a cup of gin per day until she’s a year old.
Also, this picture shows you pretty much exactly what I see whenever I’m home these days. Dang, she’s really looking up to me, isn’t she?
Sam has a bit of Pinky Tuscadero in her, doesn’t she? Very cute. 🙂
Sam has a bit of Pinky Tuscadero in her, doesn’t she? Very cute. 🙂
Yes she does, and I keep telling her that that Fonzie is BAD news. She’s a rebel, though.
Fonzie? What are you talking about? Wasn’t Pinky a character from Grease?
No, Pinky was the sort of female version of Fonzie only she wore pink leather. She was Fonzie’s girlfriend. Maybe you are thinking of Rizzo from Grease.
Shawn
(who spent way too much of her youth watching T.V. and listening to the Grease soundtrack)
I stand corrected. 🙂 I was thinking of that one from Grease with the pink hair, the Beauty School Dropout. What was her name???
I can sing you the entire song of Beauty School Dropout but sadly (or not so sadly) I cannot tell you her name. Maybe my childhood was not as wasted as I had imagined.
Shawn
Who needs to stop the nasty law school habit of starting sentences with no.
“Frenchy.”
Don’t you people know how to use Google? 🙂
Hahaahahahahahahah – the ONLY thing I remember from a trip to Jaurez, Mexico while visiting relatives in El Paso when I was 9 was that my grandmother bought a gigantic freakin’ bottle of vanilla extract that sat in our pantry for YEARS.
Ahhh yes Frenchy. I thought about Googling but was too lazy.
I think I would prefer my daughter to be compared to Pinkey than Frenchy. Pinkey was a hell of a racer and Frenchy’s claim to fame was dropping out of beauty school and skill with blowing cigarette rings.
Sammy will grow up to be neither, thank you very much! 🙂 But she does look good in pink!