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

Now I HAVE to call her dude

One afternoon a couple of weeks ago I was inside the house helping Leta practice the piano, something that is nearly impossible to do if Marlo is not otherwise entertained. Because whatever Leta is doing, Marlo wants to be doing it, too. She’s a total copycat. I’ve tried to explain to Leta that this is how sibling dynamics work and that Marlo will eventually grow out of it, but in the meantime would it hurt her to go make me a hot dog and teach Marlo how to operate the stove?

My cousin had taken Marlo into the front yard to get her as far away from the piano as possible. It was nearing time for my cousin to head home, so I left Leta to finish up a scale so that I could go bring Marlo inside. When I poked my head out the door, I found Marlo in her helmet cruising across the driveway on her scooter, her right foot forward in the goofy position both of her parents assume when snowboarding. I may have involuntarily screamed SIIIIIIIICCKKKKK!

This doesn’t sound very exciting or remarkable, I know. Your baby boy probably learned how to do this before he could walk, and I tell you what. I’d have been the first to bake him a cake and fix you a hot dog.

But Marlo hadn’t even looked at this scooter until five minutes before I opened that door.

Behold her most excellent breaking skills at the one minute mark:

Music is “Fitzpleasure” by alt-J.

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