This morning I woke up shouting "Trah-ho?!" which is actually spelled "trajo." It's Spanish for "suit" or is also used for "swimsuit."

And yes, I shouted it with the inflection of a rhetorical question.

Ordered my tent for Iceland. To help pay for it, I canceled a knife I had on backorder that was advertised as especially good at smiting mythical Icelandic beasts.

There are vampires in Iceland, you know. They wait for you by the hot springs.

* * * *

I took my babies to the park yesterday. They had a great time. They both climbed up the huge, dangerously steep stairs up to big slides. I was proud of them both.

I pushed them on the swings. They love the swings. When they were swinging exactly along with each other, I seized the learning opportunity. "Babies," I sez, "Notice how as you swing the whole world seems to move. But your brother, right next to you, doesn't seem to be moving at all. Now, are you swinging back and forth or are you both standing still while the world swings around you?"

They laughed and didn't answer me.

Cheeky bastards. I was being serious this time.



My aunt was over the other night. As we all sat at the dinner table, she recounted something I'd heard before but not in this much detail. When I was the teeniest tiniest baby, I began to walk at the age of seven months. This is mildly unusual since most babies begin walking between 9 and 12 months.

My mother wasn't as supportive as I would have hoped. Anytime I would walk, she would grab me and put me down on all fours.

I took my revenge.

"Mom," I sez. "All the problems I have ever had were because of that."

I doubt it, but I'm sure most psychology majors would agree that "Um...yeah, maybe."

Perhaps that's when I learned, so very early on, that it is best to keep your true capabilities hidden from those in authority. That is, until it's too late for them to do anything about it. Mwahahaha.

Yes, I was an evil baby.