The Picket Line

6:30 came early this morning. Nadine notified me of its arrival as I reluctantly receded from slumber on our living room couch. The reason for being on the couch was not one of a domestic dispute nature as many would hastily assume but rather of a giant mutant lobster who paid a visit to our home over the extended weekend. The nature of this beast is an interesting one if you will indulge me for a brief overview. First, the lobster selects a couple of fun loving hosts and lays one egg in their tummy each. Amazingly, that little egg will grow to a one hundred fifty pound adult in the matter of two hours. Its first act of president under his flawlessly orchestrated coup d'etat, the lobster begins to flap its tail forcing all liquids from the body in every of their respective shortest paths. When it has cleared away everything which may stand in its way, it crawls slowly to all two hundred points of articulation in the body and pinches the joints with its strong claws until they become almost numb with ache. One would hope that at least as a consolation, this beast would become the equivalent of a lobster dinner when its life cycle of three days was complete, but alas, the creature merely degrades directly from a solid organism to methane gas when it curls up in eternal slumber.


But that wasn't even what had awoken Nadine, whose lobster had expired sometime in the night. No, what woke her up was the sound of organized chants emanating from the front yard. I picked up my eye-glasses from the couch cushion next to me and walked to the window. Outside I could see a hundred grandmothers all carrying picket signs which read something to the effect of, 'We're tired of hearing about your computer problems and other non-baby topics. We want to hear about the kids and see some cute pictures'. To quell what could have been a full scale riot, I walked out to my front stoop and announced to the agitated crowd that today I would be sure to give a write up of both Zach and Amelia. Oh, and pictures. Cute pictures.




As you know, Zach has been flirting with the prospect of becoming a featherless biped. Aw, who am I kidding. Zach has already rounded a sloppy third base with that prospect and the coach is waving him home. The transition from a single step to five took a matter of days as Zach is now zombie walking from couch to fireplace to bilibo with little to no reinforcement. Zach's vocabulary is picking up, too. He has become fluent in English assuming that the subject of the conversation can be covered solely by the words "hi" or "yeah", which most conversations can.




Amelia is going through perhaps the most difficult time in a toddler's development or at least the most difficult for those around her. She has discovered the power of physical dominance as a means of dictating her will. Poor Zach and Elijah have had first hand accounts of this dangerous phase she struggles to pull through. As much as humanity would like to ignore the fact that overpowering another can temporarily get the result the assailant seeks, its existence pervades our world to an almost nauseating level at times. What Amelia is finding out, though, is that all physical dominance is eventually dwarfed by a power much greater. Whether that power be love of life, love of family, respect for society, or Mr. Steve, the peaceful way will always prevail.