And some days it's like living with Bluto Blutarsky. It's now 12:30 in the afternoon. So far the following has happened:
A hunger strike when Benevolent Dictator refused to eat something with yogurt. I tried. She screamed and cried. I gave up. Apparently in the land of dairy, milk right now is still DO. NOT. WANT.
Avocados and sweet potatoes everywhere except the mouth. Benevolent Dictator apparently finds the texture of sweet potatoes to be repulsive.
Making music by running her hands over the air vents, banging toys on other plastic objects and attempting to play percussion on Mommy's head.
Angrily protesting all diaper changes, however a flashlight seems to make her happy.
The usual grabbing, groping and squeals of joy upon seeing Mommy's boobies. She's just like her dad.
And people wonder why sometimes Mommy needs a cocktail.