Samson has been waiting, somewhat patiently, for Jane to be ticklish. I think he got his wish.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
About Me
- dada
- Call me dada. This has, in the few months since my son started "talking," become my name. I'm sure (at least I hope) it will eventually morph into something less early 20th century art movementy --- but I am marked forever as dada. And this is a good thing. I have no real advice to offer, other than always carry Cheerios and extra onesies, and I don't really have a lot of 'wacky' adventures to regale you with. Truth be told, this is as much for me as it is for you. So, uh, thanks for stopping by. I hope it's at least an interesting time-killer. And if not, consider this an ironic exercise in skewering the bourgeouis notions of 21st century American parenthood by deconstructing the materialist ethos that has turned childhood into a demographic and rendered adults simultaneous enablers and slaves. Or something.
Blog Archive
-
▼
2007
(229)
-
▼
May
(27)
- Playing (nicely, I might add)
- Fear and loathing at the deli counter
- Yarden party
- Sing along with Samson
- For children (like mine) who won't go gently into ...
- The Running Man
- Quick fix
- Music in the woods
- Yarden
- Punctuation marks
- Snapshot
- The sport of kings
- Crafty Sam
- Court of appeals
- Having seen both London and France...
- Gratuitous Sam and Jane pics
- The Gospel according to Sam
- Ugh
- From the dept. of darnedest things...
- Gitmo
- Food: It's what's for dinner
- Story time
- Theater of the absurd
- Samson in repose
- God bless what's-her-name...
- Lonely Planet: the early years?
- Career planning
-
▼
May
(27)
No comments:
Post a Comment