Don the purple juice!

It's autumn, a season of many holidays and seasonal traditions. And here's one you may not have heard of: Grobnachakkel hunting season has begun! (third item down on the left).

Sarah likes to sing, and she doesn't want anyone else to sing, either alone or along with her. She has perfect pitch, by the way. Yesterday I protested that I know songs and like to sing them as well. Her response: "I have all the voices in my body, so only I can sing them." Earlier that evening, on the swings: "What's a snail on a boat? A snailor!" And by the way, Interrupting Cow is tops in our house right now.

We're halfway woken up almost every morning just before NPR kicks in around 6:45 by Sarah, who climbs into bed between us to snuggle (usually with thumb in mouth and other fingers clutching Peeper). She still power-sucks as she falls asleep. Becky prefers snugglage in her own bed, which is just fine, especially when she throws her little arms around my head or asks for Binkles. I don't want them to grow up.

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