Playful, elegant, and not above the judicious use of the word “shit."

You don’t want me leading an army into battle

Sometimes in the morning when we’re still half-asleep and Leta refuses to ingest any of the yummy foodstuffs we have set before her on the tray of the highchair (Crispix, Alphabets, Honeycomb, caviar, etc.), she sits there screaming at us: Bleaaaaaaaah! Bleaaaaaaaah! It’s a very unpleasant noise, especially when it’s so early that the sun hasn’t even risen, oh VILE EARLY WAKER.

On mornings like this one when I’m still very sick with a sinus infection and every noise only BANG BANG BANGS in my forehead, I scream back at her: Bleaaaaaaaah! Bleaaaaaaaah! My reasoning can be explained like this: 1) many of the books you read about child-rearing tell you that it can be beneficial to repeat the noises a baby makes to reaffirm the baby, and 2) I WANT TO SEE HOW SHE LIKES THAT FUCKING NOISE.

Jon was pouring coffee and informed me, “Heather, the screams you are making are far more piercing and annoying than the ones she is making.”

I then asked him, “Well, isn’t that the point?” After which she made a Bleaaaaaaaah! much louder than any she had made before.

Without even turning to look at me Jon said, “Um, yeah. That’s not a winning strategy.”

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