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Miss T has this little inchworm rocking-horse thingy, and she loves to rock rock rock on it.  However, it seems that she also enjoys carefully balancing on it and easing into a standing position.  With her arms stretched out to the sides and everything, like a wee little gymnast.  This child, she will be the death of me with the climbing and the acrobatics and the acting like a death-defying moron.

Of course, in looking through our recent Flickr photos this evening, it seems I may have myself to blame for that.  N caught me off guard at Mega Lo-Mart* the other night.  Damn him and his iPhone, capturing things like this for all posterity:

My college roommate Valerie used to hate going shopping with me, because if I wasn’t riding the carts down the aisle like a scooter then I was randomly grabbing items off the shelves and attempting to covertly place them in the cart when she wasn’t looking.  One time I got an eye patch and some other medical supplies in there and we got all the way to the checkout before she noticed.  Hee hee.  God, she said, it is like shopping with a CHILD.  Sorry, Val!  If it makes you feel any better, it wasn’t just you.  My husband hates shopping with me too!

*I heart King of the Hill.  If you have ever lived in Texas you should check it out.  It’s funny because it is TRUE.

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