Last night, as I awaited the commencement of the post-bath ritual in which a tiny almost-2-year-old runs around in the nude giggling and repeatedly announcing the arrival of Naked Girl (oh, the Google traffic I’ll be getting for that one), I flipped on the Olympic coverage of ladies figure skating. Sure enough, within moments, my adorable superhero tore into the room, pretending to be a dinosaur (who can giggle, of course). Before she ran over to tackle me, however, she stopped to look at the television. She delightedly exclaimed, “Dancing!” and started twirling around the living room.
Aw, man, now I’m gonna have to cough it up for ice skating lessons.
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