You Got No Trumpet

J surprised me this morning by remembering when I promised him yesterday that we could get bagels in the morning. I guess he's smarter than he looks. S was running in SF, so we got her the makings of a veggie #2 to go, which she very much enjoyed.

Later today S was commencing shutdown procedures (a.k.a. trying to get J to take a nap) in the face of moderate resistance. She finally left him in the room to see if he would power down by himself. When I checked in on him a half hour later, he was curled up in a ball on the rocking chair. Very cute.

Last weekend we got J the book "Ben's Trumpet" at a yard sale. It's a great book--S says it made her tear up the first 10 times she read it. It's important that we like the books we get J, because he makes us read them 10 times a sitting. I'm realistically estimating that at bedtime today we read it for the 100th time already. Two new phrases seem to have crept into J's lexicon: "You're crazy! You got no trumpet" and "he's the cat's meow". He definitely is.

S is having little luck in the search for maternity clothes. I find it hard to fathom that maternity clothing can suck as bad as it does, given that women have needed to clothe themselves while pregnant for millenia. I still mock S over the blue mumu she bought in desperation in PR. It made her look like a blueberry.