What's Going On Here:

Andrew has the camera.

Lucy wants a picture by the tree.

I say Andrew, "Don't take a picture of me."

He says, "I won't Court."

I say, "I am serious."

He says, "I won't Court"

He winks at Lucy.

I go back to coaxing The Chief out from behind the tree.

White flocking bits are sticking to me,

on my dress

in my hair.

(I was warned, but I didn't heed

the part about toddlers and

flocked trees.)

"Come on sweetheart,"

I sing sweetly.

But he doesn't move.

Meanwhile Lucy poses

(her old cheerleading pose-perhaps?)

Betsy ponders the great attributes of classical Rome

and Andrew takes the picture.

(With me in it.)


Anybody thirsty?