This morning I asked Harry if he needed a diaper change. He fled, knocking down furniture and slamming doors in his wake, like a perp evading the detectives on an episode of Law & Order. Who knew diaper changes were that bad?
Bess spent the morning working on her dance moves, practicing her ballet positions and trying to teach them to Harry. This afternoon she and her cousin found a princess dress-up app on John's iPad. How did I ever produce a pink sparkles twirly girl?