My little. . . .

Today Louisette took her walker into the kitchen, threw it repeatedly on the ground, and screamed in inconsolable frustration for ten minutes. Then I finally figured out what she wanted, and unscrewed one of the large plastic screws holding it together. She spent the next half hour delightedly examining the pieces. Perhaps she’ll be a mechanic someday.

Nowadays her vocabulary (some of which fades from use for weeks before reappearing) includes Mum, Dad, more, no, yeah, oh yeah, oh dear, tickle, duck, dog, woof, cat, broom-broom, ball, book, hello. Farmer? Telephone sales rep? Sportswoman?

She has a toy knife which she LOVES. All day she walks around with it clutched in one fist. Just. . . . ready. Boy, she sure loves that knife.

Time to stop guessing Louisette’s future. Stupid idea, anyway.

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