Nice kittie

These days if I want to get a shower before noon I have to take Chicky into the bathroom with me, or turn the television to that insufferable red muppet and keep the bathroom door open for her to wander aimlessly in and out. While in the shower, with the warm water washing away the memory of that morning's tantrum, I'm always wondering what I will find when I get out. I like to live dangerously that way, living for the element of surprise. But there are those days I just know that if left to her own devices Chicky will grow weary of Elmo and start redecorating, so it's better to lock the door behind the two of us and let her play with my birth control pills.

Today was one of those days.

The water was running and I was stripped down to nothing more than what the good lord gave me - and the rest that the birth of Chicky made unrecognizable. Her vocabulary might not be impressive, but she's fairly good at identifying her body parts and is appropriately curious about Mama's.

She took one look at my furry monster, of the not-so-Sesame-Street-friendly type, pointed to it and said,"Bum."

"Well, no honey. That's not Mama's bum. Thats..."

She sized me up while I stumbled and groped for the right descriptive words.

"Mama? Bum?", she said again.

"No, um."

That's when the look of recognition crossed her face. She took one look at me, pointed again, and said,

"Mama. Meeeoooow."

Close, hon, that's pretty close.