Wednesday, November 4, 2009


Jenny grabs my silk curtains with her grubby hands and twists them all around her.

We play peek-a-boo for a minute because I know it's completely futile asking her to not touch them.

After a minute I get sick of the game and fail to respond. Then I hear her plaintive little voice say (muffled within the fabric) "Where am me? Where am me, Mommy?"

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