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<\/a>Reason I have twenty photos of Pie to every one photo of Doodles: Doodles is a whirling dervish. Getting him to stand still for a photo is near impossible and requires serious bribes of sweets and\/or playtime.<\/p>\nSigns that weaning is not in my future: Pie’s new trick is she pops off the br*east, smacks her lips, and cheers, with a smirk, “Yum, yum!”<\/p>\n
Sign I’m doing something right: After an accident, Doodles asks Adams, “Do only daddies always clean up poopie messes?”<\/p>\n
How many times Doodles can ask between 1 p.m. and 3 p.m. if the afternoon cookies are out: 27<\/p>\n
Conversations you really don’t want your child having with other children:
Doodles: Do you know who Doodles Brown is?
New friend: No.
Doodles: He’s dead.<\/p>\n
A sign that you really need to be carrying tissues around with you: Doodles looks at Pie and then asks me, “If you eat green food, does it make your snot green?”<\/p>\n
Conversations you really don’t want to be having with your child:
Me: Well, you see, a long, long, long time ago, there were monkeys. And those monkeys had children and they were a little less monkey like and a little more human like. And they<\/i> had kids and their<\/i> kids were even more human like. Until eventually, over a long, long period of time, those monkeys became humans. And that’s called evolution.
Doodles: So monkeys can turn into people?
Me: Well, not exactly. You see…<\/p>\n
Proof that Doodles is not really my child: “Marshmallows are yucky.”<\/p>\n
Proof that Pie really is my child: “More marshmallows! More marshmallows!”<\/p>\n