Putting This In Context

"Uhhhpp." Dipity has just lodged a request to be lifted uhhhpp into my lap. I, of course, obliged. She is reading Curious George. I am blogging. For this moment we are both happy. "Splash." George fell in the lake. "Da Da Da," says Dipity. "Da Da Da," I respond. "Don't bend the book back the wrong way." It's a funny thing to say to an 18 month old, who probably didn't know there was a wrong way to read a book and if she did would probably want to do it that way. "Husssh." George is asleep. I realize the inappropriateness of my comment, so I tickle her. This is a really silly thing to do, since she was sitting quietly on my lap. Now she is sprawled awkwardly with her head weighing down my arm, her feet kicking me in the armpit, and her book making way too many appearances on the keyboard. Oops, now the hands are exploring the keyboard. I'm apologizing now for any odd spacing, pun (oops there went the monitor) ctuation, or spelling. Now I have a fight on my hands, because someone thinks it is fun to turn the monitor off. Well, the trusty old spin in the chair hasn't worked, so I'll try putting her on the ground. Now she's out of my way, but she is fussing. Oh, she actually wants me to lift her up to the old printers drawer I have hanging on the office wall and filled with all kinds of fun little trinkets, trinkets which she likes me to take out one at a time and show her. I'm not obliging her right this minute, so she's being a little grumpy. Oh, it's calmed down. Ohhhhh, she's gritting her teeth and turning red. And, if you haven't guessed what she's doing, I'll add that she is grabbing her crotch and saying "poop." Oh, here comes the smell. She still seemed to be expending effort, so I just asked her if it was a tough poop. She pointed to the brick on my bookshelf. Well, now she is back on the desk, still grabbing her crotch and saying "poop." And, I got a hug. That seems like the perfect note to end this on. She has her arm around my shoulder and is pulling highlighters in and out of the metal cup they live in and sampling them. I am happy to have been able to so faithfully illustrate the context within which I write these little blogs. Maybe now you will forgive me my little typos. Just imagine what this would be like if there was no spell-check. Oh, out went the monitor. I think I'm being sent a message. So, bye bye.