We visited my sister for Thanksgiving. My Niece (8 years old) grabbed my hand. "Uncle Jeff, come look!"
She dragged me over to the wall of family photos and started pointing. "This one's no good," she explained. She was pointing at a picture of her older brother.
"This one's no good, too." Now she was pointing at a picture of her younger brother. Her finger drifted over to a picture of herself. "This one is good."
The pattern thus established, she continued to work her way through the pictures. "This one's bad. This one is really bad. This one is nice. This one has got to go. This one needs to go. This one is pretty."
She pointed to a picture of her parents. "This one has GOT to GO!", she shouted, grinning.
I glanced back at my sister. She was laughing, but had a semi-horrified look on her face.
Niece worked her way through about 15 pictures, most of which were "bad". She finished with a picture of herself, saying "...and this one is good!"
It was my moment. I looked at her and said, "Have you ever considered that *you* might be the problem?"
"Aw, Uncle Jeff!" Niece rolled her eyes at me and ran away, giggling.
My sister was holding her sides and trying not to fall over laughing. "Yes!," she gasped. "Yes!, it's her! Trust me! It's her! She's the problem!"
I'm glad we were able to establish blame... it's the first step toward healing. :)
She dragged me over to the wall of family photos and started pointing. "This one's no good," she explained. She was pointing at a picture of her older brother.

I couldn't resist
The pattern thus established, she continued to work her way through the pictures. "This one's bad. This one is really bad. This one is nice. This one has got to go. This one needs to go. This one is pretty."
She pointed to a picture of her parents. "This one has GOT to GO!", she shouted, grinning.
I glanced back at my sister. She was laughing, but had a semi-horrified look on her face.

There's more than one problem here
It was my moment. I looked at her and said, "Have you ever considered that *you* might be the problem?"
"Aw, Uncle Jeff!" Niece rolled her eyes at me and ran away, giggling.
My sister was holding her sides and trying not to fall over laughing. "Yes!," she gasped. "Yes!, it's her! Trust me! It's her! She's the problem!"
I'm glad we were able to establish blame... it's the first step toward healing. :)



Last week there was a roar from the freight elevator. I'm going to guess that it was human, but it's hard to say for sure. It sounded like a cross between Animal and Chewbacca. It was so loud that Big Dawg heard it through his headphones.






I message'd P-Ziddy. I asked him how his little 'Zid-spawn behaves when it's naptime and she doesn't want to lie down.








One of the packages of Smarties must have been open, because every once in a while I'd catch a whiff of pure sugary goodness. I didn't think anything of it.
