Claire's Little Ducky Theorem

Claire recently shared with me what she calls her Little Ducky Theorem. The proof for her theorem is: If bathtime = a large towel used to dry me AND a large towel used to dry me = no fun, THEN bathtime = no fun. Claire went on to say, "...and furthermore, if pigs could in fact fly, then bacon would be sold in the poultry case at the grocery store." Obviously, Claire is wise beyond her year. Anyway, this past weekend (on bath day), a naked Claire was scene fleeing the bathroom with one shoe in her hand while screaming, "You'll never catch me... I'm the wind!" Stew is often seen doing the same thing but, thankfully, nobody ever chases him or takes a photo.

This weekend, Claire got lots more fun things for her birthday. Her good buddy (and honorary cousin), Naiya, gave Claire a grocery cart full of food products. I think they're fake products, but I've yet to get one in my mouth to confirm. Claire also got a set of toy maracas that she likes to beat on my head (Thanks, Naiya... and Aunt Michelle & Uncle Peter Karl)! Aunt Michelle took some photos of Claire and Naiya, so I got a picture of the girls checking out the photos. Claire was especially amused by the slideshow capabilities of Aunt Michelle's camera.

We also had a few people over for Momma's birthday. Stew slow roasted a bird carcass and made some other vittles. Aunt Karen made a Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting, Aunt Dee brought over some baked brie, and Aunt Michelle made a batch of gluten-free brownies. Everyone else pretty much sat on their butts asking "is there anything I can do?" while knowing full well Stew would not accept their assistance. Aunt Julie gave Momma a gift of not one... not two... but THREE coffee mugs full of chocolates. This infuriated Stew, who has since exorcised the mugs of their delicious chocolate contents and deposited the mugs in a box in the garage marked in black permanent marker with the letters G-O-O-D-W-I-L-L.

On Sunday, Momma dressed Claire in her new Stowe, Vermont, fleece jacket... along with her pink bear hat... and took Claire and I outside for a walk. Claire holds my leash while Momma pushes the jogging stroller. Normally Stew holds my leash, but on Sunday afternoon he was downstairs lying on the couch pulling his hair out while watching the Vikings lose yet another football game. I'm not sure why he bothers, and this is about the time of the season when he starts cheering for the Green Bay Packers. You see, each year Stew starts out hoping the Vikings have a good season only to switch his allegiances to the Packers mid-season. It's a definite "no-no" to do this while living in Minnesota, but Stew says he grew up in SoDak and liked both teams as a kid. So, somehow this makes it alright. Plus, he often tells me, "Bogart, if these Minnesota sporting teams want my support, then they'd better start winning... oh, and lowering beer prices at the Metrodome and Target Center wouldn't hurt either."

On Sunday night, Momma's cousin Michael was in town for a visit. He stayed for dinner and watched Desperate Housewives with us. Aunt Karen came over just in time for leftover birthday cake. Michael recently got back from serving a tour in Iraq and will soon be finishing his Ice Dancing Degree at the University of Illinois (that's an inside joke...). At our house, anyone who wears a uniform is considered a hero... except for the Robbinsdale policeman who looks like Chief Clancy Wiggum from The Simpsons television show. This clown issued Stew a citation for rolling through the stop sign at the end of our block at 5:45AM one morning while Stew was enroute to work. There were no cars in sight, and Stew just barely rolled through the sign, but he got a ticket instead of a warning. He thought it'd be a $25 fine, but it turned out to cost him $150 and a couple points on his insurance record. Apparently ANY moving violation in Minnesota brings a minimum $150 fine. Guess how many times Stew has seen Robbinsdale police cars roll through stop signs since receiving his ticket. All that aside, we are extremely proud of Michael and very happy he's home and safe with his family in Chicago. I don't have permission to post his picture on the blog, but I'm doing it anyway. I'm fairly certain he could snap me like a twig over his leg, but I'm hoping he doesn't. He brought me some of Grandma Helen's homemade doggie biscuits when he arrived at our house, so I'm hopeful he still likes me even after posting his picture.