April 19, 2009

Comb! Comb! Comb!

I took James out to the garage to throw out a diaper, and he kept saying, "comb, comb, comb." I couldn't figure out what he was talking about until I finally set my eyes on the giant rake standing up in the corner of the garage. Comb. A big one.

Today has been interesting to say the least. I couldn't find the remote control. James had stashed it cleverly in Stella's bassinet. He knows he gets in trouble for touching the remote, so he figured he would hide it with Stella... make her take the blame. Smart cookie.

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