Daddy's Girl

I was about to change Diana's diaper during our road trip last Monday when she stopped me and said, "No, Daddy's turn!" She then demanded that daddy sing "Old MacDonald had a Farm" non-stop for the next 40 miles. Any time I tried to join in to give Warren a break, she said "No, Stop it!" and then daddy would have to start again. I got a nice break. The trip would have been completely great overall if it weren't for the screaming, the vomit, and the coyote who gave its life to destroy our radiator. From dust we come, to dust we shall return; may he rest in peace.

Baby

Been a while, hasn't it? It's a little unfortunate because I wanted to tell anyone who doesn't know (it's freaking obvious since I'm as big as a whale) that we are pregnant with child number two, and I wanted it to be at the end of another blog because I'm a little embarrassed that the fetus is already almost four months old and we haven't bothered telling anyone yet, except for a post on the wall of the Hoggard family fantasy football league, which I'm sorry, family, but I've forgotten to check the last two weeks, but don't you realize that I have never in my life watched an entire game of football and it's pointless to insist I join every year, that of course, beside the point that it's been so long since we blogged anything at all, and I'm hitting an absolute blank. Luckily for me, we have a lot of unpublished blog drafts, so I'll just borrow from an April 5 list of things that Diana has swallowed which resulted in a phone call to poison control (1-800-222-1222).

1. neosporin
2. acrylic paint
3. automatic dishwasher detergent
4. rabbitfoot grass (Polypogon monspeliensis)
5. chlorox bleach

And by the way, we're pregnant with number Two.

National Night Out (video)

Today, Emily was on the news. She's modest about it. She didn't even tell me she was going to do it. In fact, she forgot about it because she was helping our neighbors move. I'm less modest about her and openly think she's smart and sexy.

Check out the video. And send her a message - it'll make her feel uncomfortable.

Memory Lane

Remember this, Warren?

Baking Cookies

Step 1: Cream shortening and sugars; add eggs, water, vanilla and mix. Add dry ingredients and chocolate chips.

Step 2: Shape dough into 1" balls. Place 2" apart on a greased cookie sheet.

Step 3: Bake at 325 degrees F for 12-15 minutes. Serve.

Ultimate

My sister Liz is visiting us for the summer, and she brought with her a passion for Ultimate Frisbee--a passion she is diligently attempting to pass on to my daughter. Here is Diana's first foray into the world of Frisbee:

I've got just the thing

A problem? Great! I have the solution! Lose your keys? Lost-key paging devices. Miss an assignment at school? Get a palm pilot. It solved all my problems. Lonely? There should never be more than two lonely people. Stop complaining and go find someone.

So, go ahead, I'm listening.

Please, no need to go on. I already understand. It's a simple thing really. (So simple, I'm a little surprised you would bring it up. Good thing I'm patient.) I've seen it many times. This is what you should do. Tell you what, I'll even help.

Really? You don't like the idea? That's ridiculous. Can you hear yourself talking? The flaws in your arguments only support me and make you look, honestly, a little foolish. Maybe you didn't hear me--let me say that again. Clearer this time.

Why wouldn't she listen? So stubborn. Just not willing. I did my part.

I guess I could have said it that way. Yes, those words are preciser. That's what I really meant to say. This intonation could have made it sharper. If only I had said that, she would have seen clearer. I'm more convinced than ever. This is what she needs to do, or she'll miss out.

Don't worry, I'll make sure to bring it up next time. She'll thank me.