"You don't want to end up in your mother-in-law's garage."

The Megatherium is finally taking an interest in speaking, though a bit haphazardly. At present she can (or will deign to) say about as many letters as words. (A, B, D, E (unless she decides it's an M), sometimes G, I, M, N, O, S) "Up" has been slurring into "uppy!" which broke through into "happy!" yesterday evening, and now we have periods of toddler chanting "happy! happy! happy!" most appropriately. She will also say "baa" for sheep & "hiss" for snake, and after a few days of baa-ing she's pretty well mastered "baby." There are also a bunch of things where she'll point to something and say "A!" or "I!" which I haven't quite deciphered yet. But, progress!

Meanwhile, we went to visit grauwulf's family in Ohio, and now the Megatherium is drowning in baby dolls (ok, she's added three to the menagerie, plus a beanie-bear with her name on it (not in the form we use) and an appalling board book with mini disney princess plastic pet figures. And then grauwulf went to see if there was anything he wanted to adopt out of his grandfather's tool shed and discovered that his mother's third husband's ashes are still in a cardboard box in there, too.

So, R--- died about six and a half years ago, and when grauwulf and I helped move his (grauwulf's) mother up to Ohio a few months later she brought the box with his ashes up with her. And then she left it with all of her crap at her parents' house when she moved in with first one boyfriend and then another (to whom she's now married.) Most of the other crap has now been moved out of the shed, and when asked, she claims that she's got some kind of romantic-or-was-that-technically-illegal plan about scattering ashes on a long bike trip, so he mostly complained to his grandmother about the tackiness of all this. Or, tried to...

"You don't want to end up in your mother-in-law's garage," we said.

"Well, at least I didn't throw him in the trash," she told us, and then proceeded to explain that she'd had him in a cabinet in the glassed-in porch until she needed that to put the dog food in, and that was when she moved him out to the barn. (And there was about ten minutes of this sort of thing, most of which is now entirely lost to posterity, and also including just how ghastly R---'s family is, so maybe threatening to return him to them is not the best idea, either.) It is possible that the amount of time we spent giggling about this later was entirely a function of the kind of mental exhaustion induced by a weekend trying to interface with family you have virtually nothing in common with.

"You don't want to end up in your mother-in-law's garage."

The Megatherium is finally taking an interest in speaking, though a bit haphazardly. At present she can (or will deign to) say about as many letters as words. (A, B, D, E (unless she decides it's an M), sometimes G, I, M, N, O, S) "Up" has been slurring into "uppy!" which broke through into "happy!" yesterday evening, and now we have periods of toddler chanting "happy! happy! happy!" most appropriately. She will also say "baa" for sheep & "hiss" for snake, and after a few days of baa-ing she's pretty well mastered "baby." There are also a bunch of things where she'll point to something and say "A!" or "I!" which I haven't quite deciphered yet. But, progress!

Meanwhile, we went to visit grauwulf's family in Ohio, and now the Megatherium is drowning in baby dolls (ok, she's added three to the menagerie, plus a beanie-bear with her name on it (not in the form we use) and an appalling board book with mini disney princess plastic pet figures. And then grauwulf went to see if there was anything he wanted to adopt out of his grandfather's tool shed and discovered that his mother's third husband's ashes are still in a cardboard box in there, too.

So, R--- died about six and a half years ago, and when grauwulf and I helped move his (grauwulf's) mother up to Ohio a few months later she brought the box with his ashes up with her. And then she left it with all of her crap at her parents' house when she moved in with first one boyfriend and then another (to whom she's now married.) Most of the other crap has now been moved out of the shed, and when asked, she claims that she's got some kind of romantic-or-was-that-technically-illegal plan about scattering ashes on a long bike trip, so he mostly complained to his grandmother about the tackiness of all this. Or, tried to...

"You don't want to end up in your mother-in-law's garage," we said.

"Well, at least I didn't throw him in the trash," she told us, and then proceeded to explain that she'd had him in a cabinet in the glassed-in porch until she needed that to put the dog food in, and that was when she moved him out to the barn. (And there was about ten minutes of this sort of thing, most of which is now entirely lost to posterity, and also including just how ghastly R---'s family is, so maybe threatening to return him to them is not the best idea, either.) It is possible that the amount of time we spent giggling about this later was entirely a function of the kind of mental exhaustion induced by a weekend trying to interface with family you have virtually nothing in common with.

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