Meanwhile, as I type, she's lying on the floor, arms extended and raised in front of her doing the "Supergirl" stretch the PT/OT folks at the hospital taught her.
(She says to tell all of you, "I @#$%ING HATE SUPERGIRL! SUPERGIRL IS DEAD!" Such a precious child.)
I'm happy to report that it's been a week and she's stuck to her regime -- except for a Saturday night pardon for a sleepover -- with minimal whining.
Except for the inquiries as to how much she's getting paid for doing "all this work." I think we're up to a quarter a day plus unlimited flavorless Sno-Cones (eg - cups of crushed ice). Bless her capitalistic survival instincts.
As to your regular dose of tales of Uncool frivolity, I have two offerings for you today:
- My Hot Dad's post in which I discuss the Reverse Cowgirl position and creme brulee.
- My DadCentric post in which my kids' school disses my contribution to their creation. In it, you also learn why Charles Ingalls was able to handle any parenting quandary on TV's "Little House on the Prairie."