The virtual trip to Mexico

Hey! In nine days, we go to Mexico! Sort of.

Actually, I confess: we already went to Mexico. Last month. For sixteen days. We had a wonderful time. The place we stayed is over to the right there (my little free ad for the condo, because I enjoyed it so much). I blogged the whole time, but I post-dated all of the blog entries to post one month later. Why? Well, because, not everyone is honest and kind, and the blog is open to everyone, and I've posted pictures of my house, so... I didn't want the whole world knowing where I lived and the fact that I was out of the country. It didn't seem wise. Now, I think it's pretty cool that I post-dated the entries, because I can relive our trip and remember it fondly, starting February 19.



If you are reading about our trip, wondering Who is taking care of those chickens? The answer is: the chickens weren't hatched yet when we were in Mexico. We're already back, you see! And through the magic of Blogger, everything will post a month late (if I did it right).

We went to the southern tip of the Baja California peninsula, to Cabo San Lucas, a small tourist town. Apparently, Jennifer Anniston copied us and came after we were there for a few days. That kind of stuff is always happening to us. She didn't catch a glimpse of us, though. We went incognito as a small Midwestern family of three, with a Pink Monkey.

These Literalists Are Everywhere

I was at the playground with Little Z today again, and this little girl about her age- maybe 2.5 years - was carrying around a rag doll. She had been playing near us for some time, and just to be friendly, I asked,

"Does your dolly have a name?"

(This, to me, is a valid question, because Little Z does not name her dolls. She calls them all, "Baby" - except for Pink Monkey, who is, of course, a monkey.) The little girl looked up at me with no trace of a positive emotion and said, in perfectly articulated English,

"Yes, my dolly has a name." She then sauntered off to the slide.

The Things We Carry

We were getting ready to walk to the park this morning. I told Brian,

"I don't have a key."

"I do!" said Zelma, and disappeared down the hall. She reappeared with her stuffed pink monKEY.

This is the difference between how 35 year-olds think and how 1 3/4 year olds think. I hate to leave the house without my house key. She hates to leave the house without a favorite stuffed animal. Naturally, she heard "I don't have a monkey", as I left the house empty handed. In her world, it is a travesty to leave the house without a monkey.

How thoughtful of her! I carried Pink Monkey to the park with us.

The picture is a few months old. (We don't need winter coats here anymore, even in Wisconsin.)