How To Remove Unwanted Clothing

1.  I start out by loosening my tight above my knee.

 Hiya, Friends!  I know what you're thinking, after you read my title.  You're thinking, "Zoe, it's inappropriate for a little kid like you to be writing about how to remove unwanted clothing."  Well, I have something to say to you.  First of all, give your mind a bath!  I'm sixteen months old!  Whaddaya think I'm up to here?  And second, read on, because you'll find what I have to say is very useful.

Now, being sixteen months old, I don't get a real voice in the choice of what I'm going to wear.  Mommy tries to make me FEEL as though my voice is heard, doing the old "Would you rather wear this or this?" trick, but I know the score here.  That Mommy's preselected those outfits.  She's prescreened them, so whether I pick this outfit or this outfit, it's a win-win for her.

2.  Once it's over my knee, it's fun-sailing!

This didn't usedta bother me.  Believe it or not, there was a time when I didn't mind having Mommy pick out everything for me and make all my decisions for me, but now I'm older and more sophisticated, and I wanna make a few decisions for myself, starting with what I wear or don't wear!

Take today's outfit.  It's my purple polka-dot creeper, with a white body suit underneath.  And zebra BabyLegs.  Don't get me wrong.  I love all my BabyLegs legwarmers, but today, I just don't feel like wearin' 'em.  Why?  Well, because even though it's been gray and drizzly today, it's still fairly warm out.  And it's especially fairly warm in.  I looked at the thermostat in the living room, and saw that it's 71 degrees in my living room!  Why, in the summertime, it's 71 degrees in here, and not only do I not hafta wear my legwarmers, but I also don't need a long-sleeved bodysuit under my creeper!

3.  Whoops!  Down over the shin it goes!

Just smacks of a double-standard, to me, that 71 in May doesn't need all the extra layers, but 71 in the living room in January suddenly requires all sorts of extra clothing.

So I've taken matters in my own hands, Big People.  Mommy can play this "Which outfit do you want to wear?" game all she wants to.  I'll play along.  I'll point to the outfits.  I'll let her put 'em on me.  Fine, fine, fine.

Thing is, she can't have her hands on me every waking second.  And the minute she lets go of me when it's this warm in the living room, Friends, these legwarmers are history.  Believe you me!

I've been doing this with my socks, for as long as I can remember.  Mommy would put the darned socks on me, and I'd just peel 'em right off.  It's just bad policy to cover up my Fabulous Feet of Fury!

4.  Give it a look and make sure all my toes got out okay!

 Now, for the longest time, my BabyLegs didn't fit me, so Mommy wouldn't put them on me, and I didn't hafta know how to get 'em off!  But for months now, they've been an integral part of most of my outfits.  And usually I don't mind.  They're warm, and more importantly, they're cute, and they really pull an outfit together, but I'm doing this on principal.  I want 100% decision-making power when it comes to my clothing, and if that means taking off my BabyLegs, well so be it.  Off they'll come.

Days like today, when it's downright tropical in the living room, it just makes good horse sense to take off my BabyLegs.  It's tricky, because they fit kind of snug.  I've tried to just grab 'em by the bottoms and pulling, but they're like those Chinese handcuffs!  The more I pull, the tighter the BabyLegs get on my legs!  How about that?!

5.  Buh-bye, BabyLeg!  Thanks for coming!

 So what I hafta do is start wrinkling up the BabyLegs way up high above my knee.  I scrunch and scrunch until I have a buncha material  bunched up, so I can get my fingers in it.  Then I start scooching the top of the BabyLeg down toward my knee.  Getting it over my knee is tricky, because... well, I guess it's because knees are just tricky in general.  If YOU don't have a trick knee, I betcha know somebody who does!  That's just how knees are!

Once I get the BabyLeg shimmied over my knee, it just slips right down my shin, like my shin's a little sliding-board!  Whooops!  There it goes!

Now, even though it's the home stretch, that BabyLeg isn't off yet.  I have to get it over my ankle and foot, and that's especially a delicate maneuver, because there's always the chance that my foot's going to come right off with the BabyLeg.  Or my toes.

6.  I feel better when my leg can breathe! Ahh!

I always check the BabyLeg for my foot or my toes, once I have it off and in my hand, just to make sure it didn't take one of my Fabulous Feet of Fury with it, and I like to make sure all my Toes of Terror are intact before I toss aside the BabyLeg.  You can never be too careful, Big People.  You never can, and here's why: one time last Spring, I stuck my foot in a sneaker, and my foot went to another dimension!  That is a true story!

So that's that, Friends.  That's how to handle it when your Mommy makes you wear extra layers you don't wanna wear.  BabyLegs in particular.  I like having this knowledge because it makes me feel like I have a little control over something in my life.  That's important!

I'm afraid this is a hollow victory for me, though, Friends.  You see, tomorrow, it's supposed to be c-c-cold again, and as handy as I am at getting my 'Legs off, getting them put back on is my downfall.  I hafta ask Mommy for help, and that's quite a pill to swallow, I'll tell ya what.

Next Stop, The Boiler Room!

Mo' office, mo' problems.

Hiya, Big People!  Well, remember how when I moved in to this office of mine, I fought a constant battle with Mommy over who should clean my office?  My position was if I want it cleaned, I'll clean it, and she thought it was her job to put all my toys in bins and such.

We finally came to an uneasy understanding.  If things got so crowded that I couldn't even walk, I'd do something about it.  Well, then on Christmas Morning, I came down to the ol' office to find out that my walls had moved, and I had a bigger office!  I had more office!

Well, Big People.  Mo' office, mo' problems, as a wise man once said.

You see, now I have my Red Retro Kitchen in my office.  I cook up lots of good things in here.  But that darn Mommy.  You know, I'm just getting to where I know where things are in here again, and what'd she do today?  She comes at me with these bins she bought, and she starts organizing my toys according to kind, and all my fruits are in one bin, and all my pretend vegetables are in another.  She put the cutting boards and pretend knives and ice cream scoops in another bin.  And then she put those toys in my refrigerator and stove and under my sink! 

It's enough to make me wanna pop a gasket, but do ya think she stopped with those toys?  I'll give you a hint.  She did not.

See, I kept my MegaBlox in a big canvas chest, and I liked 'em in the big canvas chest, because then I could use the big canvas chest as a climbing thing.  I like to climb.  I've recently learned how to climb, and I like to get my practice.  That Mommy, or Vava Buzzkill as I like to call her, dumped my MegaBlox out of that cool chest and into a tall, open bin that I can't climb up on!  Ooooooh!

Yeah, you could say she made it easier for me, in that I can reach those MegaBlox easier.  But she missed my point.  I like to CLIMB, and she boogered that all up!  That Mommy!

How am I ever supposed to get my bearings around here if every time I get things the way I like them, Mommy comes in and puts it all in bins and hides it in my kitchen set?  How, Big People?  Oooooooh, it made me so mad today, I spent some time at the Ballapalooza.  I made it sing its music, and I used the Hanging Inflatable Ball as a speedbag.  Took out a good bit of my aggressions, but it still doesn't change the fact that I don't know where anything is in my office, with it all put away.

If I had a stapler, I'd have an idea of what Milton felt like, I think.  I really would. 

Next stop, the boiler room!

My Triumphal Return and the Musical Fruit!

I've felt as though something's been missing lately.

Hiya, Friends!  Well, if you've been following along, and I know you have, you know how much I love the Texas Hot in Downtown Wellsville.  You should also know I haven't been there lately, and it's hurt my heart. 

 It's been all blah, blah, blah, Mommy and Daddy are trying to eat healthier, and make the Texas Hot in Downtown Wellsville a sometimes-treat, instead of a regular thing.  You know what? 

That's stinkin' thinkin' in my book!  Eating at the Texas Hot is good for your soul!

I'm on a roll tonight!  With butter!

I guess I understand about it being cold, weather-wise.  I guess I understand that it's better to be safe than sorry, with the roads.  I understand all of this.  I really do.  But you know what this baby needs?  This baby needs a night out, once in a while!

See, when I went for my nap this afternoon, I went with the understanding that I'd be going to Gramma's tonight, while Mommy and Daddy went to the hockey game, but it seems that over the course of my nappage, decisions were made and plans changed.  The weather again.  Stupid weather.

Yes, it IS quite delicious, my roll! 

In light of this, I said to Mommy and Daddy that I understood about them not wanting to drive all the way to downtown Buffalo for the game tonight, but would they mind terribly taking me out for supper, since it's been a while.  Mommy allowed as to how it's been a while, because the last time I was taken out to eat in public, I made a fuss and embarrassed her and Daddy so much they thought we'd never be allowed to be seen in KayTee's again.  I told her that was because there's nothing against KayTee's, but I didn't want to be at KayTee's that day, I wanted to be at the Texas Hot in Downtown Wellsville!

Apparently, even Mommy couldn't argue with my logic.  

So tonight, I made my triumphal return to the Texas Hot in Downtown Wellsville.  It was nice.  We parked on the side-street, where there are no meters, so we had a little walk.  We walked by the jewelry store, and Mommy slowed down to have a look.  I love the jewelry store windows, too!  Everything's so sparkly!  I love sparkly!  Then we walked past the theater, and the drug store, and barber shop and clothing store, and then finally we were there: my beloved Texas Hot!

You don't mind if I eat in front of you, do you?

It was so cold outside, and when we got inside, it was so warm and inviting!  It was like coming home!  I'd know that aroma anywhere: grilling hot dogs, burgers, French fries frying, Texas Hot Sauce simmering... When we got inside, I took a big whiff of the air and thought 'Ahhhhhhhhhhh!'

There's just something about the atmosphere.  The way the air smells, the way the lights light up the walls and those wooden booths; it just made it feel so warm and cozy and welcoming as we sat down.

I got to try BOTH the specials tonight.  Mommy ordered me the baked beans and hot dog, but our waitress forgot and brought me macaroni and cheese instead.  I was so hungry that the minute the mac&cheese was in front of my, I got into it with both my hands.  And then our waitress came back by and said she realized she brought me the wrong thing.  She felt bad, she said, and brought me my baked beans and hot dog, too! 

I'm glad she did.  Mommy said those baked beans were DELICIOUS!  She said it just like that.  DELICIOUS!  You could hear the capital letters her voice.  I thought they were good, too.  They were sweet.  I could have eaten them for dessert, and been just happy about it!

Everything just tastes better here at the 'Hot!

Of course, we got a slice 'a coconut creme pie to share for dessert instead, though.  Boy, was I ever stuffed!

The only thing about my return to the Texas Hot was that Mommy sat me beside that wonderful, shiny silver call-button, and she wouldn't let me push it to make the light come on.  That was a bummer to me.  And also, the jukebox didn't work.  The jukebox didn't bother me as much as not being allowed to push that beautiful silver call-button.  That's some cruel stuff, right there, for a little kid who loves buttons and shiny things and things that light up.

But I'm not going to dwell on the negatives.  I got to go to my favorite place to eat tonight, after a long stretch of being cooped up.  It felt good.  Everything tasted good.  I got to do some people-watching. 

That's a win, Friends.  That's a big win for your pal Zoe!

I Like Dog Food: So What?!

Yes! I like to eat dog food.  So what?

Hi, Friends!  Today, I want to talk to you about the wonderfulness that is Royal Canin Venison and Potato dog food.  That's right, I said it.  I like Rozzie's food, and here's why:  It fits in my mouth really well and is fun to eat like a suck-on candy.

 Except, because it's special dog food available only through Rozzie's veterinarian, I know that instead of a lot of empty sugar calories like a suck-on candy, and a lot of fillers and by-products that you might find in grocery-store dog food, what I'm getting when I pinch Rozzie's food from her dish is pure nutrition as well as great taste!

There are two things I really cannot figure out about Rozzie's food. 

First of all, I don't understand why Mommy flips out, chases me down, and fishes out of my mouth any dog food I put in my mouth.  I'm minding my own business.  I'm not bugging her!  All I'm doing is sucking on a piece of Rozzie's food like it's a lozenge.  The way Mommy handles this is a complete overreaction, but then again, you've met my Mommy.  If it weren't for overreacting, she wouldn't have any reacting at all, so that's that!

I mean, it tastes so good, how can it be bad?

Second of all, how is it that Rozzie leaves food in her dish long enough for me to get to it?  Big People, I've seen it with my own two eyes.  Mommy or Daddy scoops out a big scoop of food into Rozzie's dish at breakfast time, and sometimes that Rozzie doesn't go near her food dish until after I've eaten my supper!  That's all day!  That food sits in her dish all day, just being delicious, and Rozzie just ignores it!

I don't understand that a bit!  It's delicious!  Why, if I had Rozzie's teeth, I'd gobble through that big bowl of food so fast, no kid like me could just come along and pick out a piece of food and eat it like a lozenge.  I don't think Rozzie understands just how lucky she is to get a whole bowl of that food for every meal, and not to have Mommy flipping out on her.  I mean, Mommy encourages her to eat that food.

 

 

It gives me plenty of energy and keeps my coat shiny!

On the flipside, when I'm having my meals, Rozzie's right there by my high chair, waiting for me to finish or drop something.  My food's ordinary, and Rozzie can't seem to get enough of it.

I know this, Friends.  I love Royal Canin Venison and Potato and Royal Canin Duck and Potato dog food. It's great.  It's crunchy and nutritious and exciting.  I'm not going to apologize for my love of Rozzie's dog food.  If it were wrong for me to love it, it wouldn't taste so right. 

Honk if you agree!

Donuts in the Conference Room!

Sabretooth was rattling a plastic bag by his phone microphone here, and telling me he was going through a tunnel and I was breaking up.  Ha!  There isn't a tunnel between here and Buffalo!

Friends, few things in life thrill me as much as finding out there are donuts in the conference room here at The Daily Zoe. 

Yesterday, Sabretooth was supposed to be here at a certain time to talk to me about the start of the Sabres season, and he was late, which burnt me up.  There's more to the story than that, but the point is, he was late, and it made me mad. 

A wizard is neither late nor early, but precisely on time. Sabretooth isn't a wizard, hate to break it to him.

I'm thinking of my favorite donut: All Of Them!

But he brought donuts from Tim Horton's for in the conference room, and I'm ashamed to say it, but seeing those nice glazed rings of deep-fried fat and air made me forget all about being mad at my striped friend.  I hate to think I can be played that easily.  See, Sabretooth KNEW he was late to my show.  He KNEW it!  And he brought me donuts, because he knew I just love 'em, and once I saw them and ate one or two, he'd be off the hook.

I'll always be your friend, 'Tooth!

I guess you could say I wear my heart on my sleeve.  If I like something, you know it.  If I don't like something, you know it.  That's how Sabretooth knew how to get me off from being mad at him for being so late.

 The thing is, whether he brings donuts for the conference room or whether he just decides to slink in and hope nobody notices when he's late, I can't stay mad at him.  He makes me laugh.  What can I say?

So I guess in the future, to help Sabretooth so he's not late getting to my show, I'll buy him a talking watch for his birthday this year.  That way, he won't even hafta look at it, and he'll know just what time it is. 

That's what!

Find Your Maracas!

Everybody's got their somethin'!

Hiya, Friends!  Boy!  Had a busy end of the week last week!  How on earth are ya?  Today, I want to talk about a passion of mine: music!

You see, music makes you dance, and dancing's good for your soul.  I've just recently learned that besides taking music in, I enjoy making music!  How about that?

Aunt Colleen and Uncle Lorentz got me a set of musical instruments for my birthday.  There's a xylophone, a tambourine, a clacker, harmonica, kazoo, a guiro, a pair of castanets, a paddle with tambourine-like jingles in it, a dinner-bell.... I mean triangle, and maracas.  At the time, I wasn't sure what to do with those musical instruments.

Well.  I'm older now.  I'm much more sophisticated.  I am one and one-thirds years old.  Sixteen months going on seventeen months.  That's me.  I was still practically a baby when I turned one, but now, I'm all grown up, and I've learned to play some of those fabulous musical instruments.  I like the tambourine and the clacker.  I get instant results from those instruments.  I like the xylophone because it's made from pretty wooden blocks.  I have some work to do with the harmonica and kazoo.  Those instruments are really difficult to play.  And I've yet to master the dinner-bell.  Sorry.  I mean the triangle.  I keep doing that. 

I think I keep calling the triangle the "dinner-bell," because I watched a Western one day, and they had a great big dinner bell hanging on the front porch of the ranch house, and at dinner-time, they'd go out and ring that dinner bell, and yell out "Come to the table!" or something like that.  I think a dinner bell would enhance everything about my house, not the least, Mommy's cooking.  I think if I imagined I were a cowgirl on a ranch in the Old West, the food around here would make more sense to me.  And I could imagine that a lot more effectively with a dinner bell.  And before you ask, yes, a dinner bell WOULD accessorize quite harmoniously with a disco ball.  You bet it would!

Mine's maracas!  I just love 'em!

I'll hafta check the 'Zon for a dinner bell.  Maybe I can get a deal on a dinner bell-disco ball combo.  What do you think, Friends?

Boy, oh boy, was that ever a digression!  Wowza!  But it was sort of on-topic!  You've got to admit, it was kind of on-topic, while it was off-topic! 

Musical instruments.  We were talking about my musical instruments set.  I love the maracas.  The maracas are my favorite.  I think it's because the motion used to play them is much like that I use with a rattle.  I've been playing the rattle ever since I was very little!  The maracas make me feel good.  They make me feel like I know how to do something.  It's important to learn new things, but you hafta have some things you're good at naturally.

For me, that's the maracas.

Everybody has a maracas in their lives, that one thing they're just really darned good at.  It can turn a bad day around.  Big people, what you need to do is find your maracas and shimmy and shake and be happy!  That's what!  And remember.  Zoe loves you!  Muah!

I Like Coffee a Latte!

"Glug-glug-glug-glug!"

Hey-yo, Friends!  Zoe here.  Well, something magical has happened.  I got hold of Mommy's coffee cup.  At first, she was all like "Nooooooo!"  But then, she carefully tipped it up to my mouth, and I got to drink some of the foamy milk.

I love foamy milk, Friends!  I didn't even care that I didn't get any of the actual coffee.  That foamy milk was just delicious! And it made me feel like such a grown-up!

And then I stuck my hand right in Mommy's coffee cup.  It had cooled off, so don't worry about me burning my mouth or my hands on foamy milk.  Anyway, I guess sticking your hand right into somebody's coffee cup is kind of gauche, even if the coffee cup is as big as a sink.  My bad.  I didn't know! I just love to stick my hands in water and waterlike substances.

Ahhhhhh!  Good to the last drop, Friends!

I was kind of hoping that my gaffe with my hands in Mommy's coffee cup would get me the rest of her coffee.  It worked for Rozzie that one time when Mommy put her coffee cup down to answer the phone, and Rozzie stuck her tongue in Mommy's coffee.  Mommy said "Heeeeeeeeeey!" and then looked right at Rozzie and said "I'm gonna drink it anyway," and she put the cup up to her mouth and I was holding my breath, wondering if she really would, and she almost did take a drink, and then she put the cup down in front of Rozzie and said "I just can't.  You might as well have the rest."  Well, that's the result I was hoping for, Friends.  I was hoping Mommy would just let me have the rest of her coffee, foamy milk and all.

Didn't happen, but she did let me carry around her coffee cup after she was finished with it.  Made me feel like a big girl.  Made me feel all grown-up.  

Grown-ups, you have it pretty good, getting to drink hot beverages out of giant cups!  You have it pretty darned good!

Sassy Gets You Only So Far

Feelin' sassy, lookin' classy!

Hiya, Big People!  Well, if you've been following along for these last few months like I think you have, you'll know I'm a pretty sassy little lassie.  I know what I want, and I know how to say so!  Those are very important things.  Some Big People can't even do that!

And you'll also know that I've wanted a disco ball for quite some time.  I keep submitting my requisitions for the disco ball, and they keep getting pocket-vetoed.  That's very frustrating to me. 

So yesterday, I decided to take matters into my own hands.  I decided to change my strategy.  I presented my case for a disco ball to the Powers That Be, in person, so I could take full advantage of all my sass.

I can get a whole set-up for less than $25!

But sass only gets you so far in life, Friends!  You have to do your homework, so there's substance behind the sass.   So I made sure to do my homework, you know, getting prices and sizes and such.

First, I thought I wanted one of those great big disco balls you'd see in a roller skating rink or a dance hall or your local TGIFridays.  I thought the bigger, the better.  I found out I could get an eight-inch disco ball and a motor to turn it for $34.94 at Amazon.com, or The 'Zon, like I like to call it.  Well, that didn't seem quite big enough for me, so I found a few twelve-inch disco balls.  That sounded about right.  Twelve inches.  A foot across.  Hoagies and disco balls are better at twelve inches!  But the twelve-inch disco balls didn't come with a motor!  Buying a motor would drive up my cost considerably!  And neither the eight-inch nor the twelve-inch disco ball came with any lights. 

What's a disco ball without a light to shine on it while it spins slowly, Friends?  What's a disco ball without a light, I ask!

And then I saw them.  They were small disco-balls that can sit on top of a table.  They come on a stand, with their own motor, and get this... their own lights!  All of that for less than twenty-five American dollars, and they ship free with the 'Zon's Prime Shipping!  We have Prime Shipping!  It's wonderful!

It's okay to buy small when you dream big!

Friends, I have to be honest.  The table-top disco ball set was a game-changer.  Sure, the disco ball is a lot smaller than the twelve-inch disco ball I hope to have someday, but it has everything I need to start out on my career as a Disco Ball Owner and Operator.  This won't be my primary means of income, but will be a nice little sideline.  Maybe it'll help me adopt a lobster and keep it in a tank in my room and name it Lerbert one day.  I don't know. 

So I made my case in person to the Powers That Be.  I demonstrated how a mini-tabletop disco ball would be beneficial.  I let the PTB see how well I've thought this through, told them how a mini disco ball would benefit them: they wouldn't hafta hang up a big disco ball and its motor and find a light for it.  I answered questions.

I was amazing, Friends!

While I didn't get the answer that I wanted, which was a "Yes, we'll order your disco ball set right now, Zoe!" I was told that I put on a wonderfully-researched, professionally-presented presentation.  Rozzie said I could have gone a little more dramatic on the PowerPoint slide presentations, but Mommy said it was all right to use the Wipe Effect sparingly.  It meant a lot that they thought I did a Good Job.

I didn't get pocket-vetoed this time around.  Mommy said we could monitor the prices of disco balls and mini table-top disco balls on the 'Zon, and if something interesting comes up and the time and price are right, we can jump on it. 

I like that, Friends.  I like that answer a lot.

I'm One of the Lucky Ones!

Sometimes I get mad about my circumstances!

Hiya, Friends!  Zoe here.  Well, today I've been lamenting that I don't have a pet lobster named Lerbert, nor do I have a disco ball.  And finally, I looked at myself in the mirror and said "ZEBbie!" ZEBbie's what I call myself, on account of my initials being Z E B.  "ZEBbie," I said, "Snap right the heck out of it!"

You know why I said that to myself, Friends?  Because I've realized that there are people out there, Big People and Little People, who'd LOVE to have the kinds of problems I have.  My problems are chiefly: a pain in the butt Mommy, having to take naps, not being tall enough to reach where the fun stuff is, and having neither disco ball nor pet lobster named Lerbert.  Occasionally, I get a rash in a sensitive spot, and I'd rather not have that, but it's nothing a little ointment can't clear up.  I've recently experienced a cold.  And I also have been teething.  All things that are actually entirely doable, and I feel bad for making such a big deal about all of that.

There are people out there who have it worse!  There are people out there with painful skin conditions that Desitin can't clear up.  I don't even want to imagine what that's like.  My friend Rozzie, my big white dog, has had awful skin conditions AND she's had a broken back, when she was a puppy smaller than me!  I ask her how she got through it all, and she said that she just took one day at a time and remembered that there are dogs out there who'd LOVE to have her kinda troubles, because she always had a warm, safe, comfortable place to sleep, a full bowl of water, and enough food.  She said it made her problems seem winnable, compared to what some dogs are up against, and I believe her. 

I wonder why things don't always go my way!

But it got me thinking.  What I've gone through with my teething and my recent cold... that was nothing compared to what Rozzie went through, with her back, and compared to what other little kids go through.  Some little kids have to literally fight for just their lives, and to them, having a stubborn molar cutting through would seem like easy-peasy!

Not having the disco ball... well, I guess that's okay.  I have a really nice nightlight that's a ladybug.  She puts red, or green, or blue stars all over my ceiling and walls and face at night.  I like to sit with Mommy in the rocking chair in my room, in the dark, and see what color stars Ladybug and I can put up on Mommy's face.  That's pretty cool.  And I can hug Ladybug if I wanna.  If I hugged a disco ball, I'd have to Windex it to get the smudges off!

The absence of Lerbert the Lobster is probably okay, too.  I bet lobster tanks can get pretty smelly, like a fishy smell, if you don't keep the tank cleaned enough.  And if you clean the tank too much, the lobster living in the tank could get pretty sick.  Then there's always the danger of somebody coming along and thinking Lerbert the Lobster is for dinner.  That'd be just awful!  Furthermore, I bet that lobsters, whether they're named Lerbert or not, are a lot of upkeep.  So there's all that I don't have to worry about, since I don't have a pet lobster.  I do have Rozzie.  I bet lotsa little kids would LOVE a dog like Rozzie.  I sure do.  And if I had to choose between Lerbert the Lobster and my Rozzie, I'd pick Rozzie every day, every time!

My pain in the butt Mommy.  Well, she's a little harder to find the positive to accentuate.  She's always chasing after me, not letting me unplug all the electrical cords and put them in my mouth.  She won't let me put my fingers where the electrical cords go.  She makes me eat plain Cheerios instead of the sweet ones.  She doesn't let me stay up very late, and she's always making me take a nap.  I hate stupid naps!  I cannot stress that enough!

But in the end, Friends, I'm one of the luckiest ducks around!

The other day, I said right to her, "Mommy, you're a pain in my butt!" and she said "You're a pain in my butt, too!  You fuss and cry, and some days there's no making you happy, and I don't know how to fix whatever's upsetting you, and that upsets me!" But then she said that she wishes I didn't cry, but in a way, she's glad I do, because whenever she hears me cry or shout or laugh- I laugh and shout a lot!- she knows I'm here and okay, and she loves me lots, and that there are parents out there who wish they could hear their little kids cry and laugh and shout just one more time, and so even on the days when I'm upset and nothing makes me happy, she's one of the lucky ones, just because I'm here.

That got me thinking.  I guess it works the other way around, too.  There are probably lots of little kids out there who wish their mommies were around to be a pain in their butt or to make them eat the plain Cheerios instead of the sweet ones, or to put them in the tub when they don't want to be in the tub and then take them out of the tub before they want to get out.  I bet there are little kids out there who wish they could take a nap, because their Mommy is there to protect them while they sleep, but she isn't.  I bet those little kids are pretty scared and lonely.

Me?  I'm never scared or lonely.  I always know when I get to eat next.  I have lotsa friends.  I have nice toys.  I guess I don't have it too bad after all.  I guess I'm one of the lucky ones!

I am one of the very luckiest of the lucky ones!

The Curious Case of the Kleenex-Shredding Monster!

Everybody has a Kleenex-shredding monster in their house or office!  This monster comes out of the electrical outlets when nobody's looking.  That's why you never want to stick things in the outlets that don't go there, because that monster'll bite ya.  Sometimes, the Kleenex-Shredding Monster lays dormant for years, but the minute a little kid, or a kitten, or a puppy comes into the house, the KSM has a patsy and starts coming out to do his destructive work.

Friends, I've been unjustly accused!

I don't like being Patsy.

See, the KSM pulls Kleenexes from the box or whatever containment unit you use for new Kleenexes, and then just pulls them apart.  He thinks the rippy-bits of tissues look nice, like snow, and if you use the colorful Kleenexes, well, then, all the better, as far as the KSM is concerned!  And then, instead of the KSM getting in Big Trouble when Big People come in and see all the Kleenexes lying all shredded on the floor, the nearest little kid, kitten, or puppy catches all the blame for it, because you know why?  Little kids, kittens, and puppies don't know any better!  They let themselves be the fall-guys.  They let themselves be the patsies!

You're not supposed to see this!  Keep moving!

Friends, a case of the Kleenex-Shredding Monster is happening right now, as we speak, right in my very home.  Right in my very office.  Some dastardly destructo-doer has been coming out through the electrical outlet, shredding all my Kleenexes, and then blaming it on me to Mommy.  I know that's what's happening.  I don't have anything to do with it, but there are all the pieces of Kleenex on the floor, and Mommy gives me the hairy eyeball and asks me all kinds of inconvenient questions, and then I get blamed for doing all of that ripping!

The humanity!

The only way to end this nonsense is to put up posters with my face on them that says "Free Zoe!" and then also make posters with a picture of the Kleenex-Shredding Monster and the caption "It's all the Kleenex-Shredding Monster's Fault!" on them, so we can catch the KSM shred-handed.  Can you help me out with that, Friends?  I'd ask Mommy to help me out, but she's the enemy here.  That has been made abundantly clear.

Why, I wouldn't put it past that Mommy to be in cahoots with the KSM.  I wouldn't put it past her at all!



Knowledge is power, People!  Write it down!  And help me catch the KSM!

Sweet Sixteens: A Retrospective!

This is me at Sixteen Minutes Old! (Give or take...)

Here I am at Sixteen Hours (ish) Old!

At Sixteen Days Old, I musta been exhausted!

Well, hiya, Friends!   Yesterday, as you know, I turned Sweet Sixteen Months!  And as I got thinking about it, I've passed a lot of the Sixteens already!  Once, I was sixteen seconds old!  After that, I was sixteen minutes, sixteen hours, sixteen days, and sixteen weeks old!  How about that? 

So now it's the day after my Sweet Sixteen (and I'll tell ya what, Friends, I had a blast!), I thought it'd be fun if I did another retrospective on those other Sixteens I've turned in my life!

The only Sixteen that's missing was when I was Sixteen Seconds Old.  I looked back in the archives, and I was stark nekkid at sixteen seconds old!  Holy smokes!  I can't be putting nekkid pictures of me on the Interwebs!  You never know who'll ever run across The Daily Zoe Blog in the future!  I don't want People From the Future seeing my nekkid self all over the place! 

Come to think of it, I don't want all you seeing me nekkid, either, Friends.  It'd just make things all kinds of awkward when we get together.  I know you understand!

So, during my first couple Sixteens in this life, things were very overwhelming to me.  I slept a lot.  I remember it then!  All I could do, pretty much, was just eat and sleep and look around.  It wasn't a thing to take a nap, because I think it was my job, besides all of that eating.  Eat and sleep, sleep and eat.  So it didn't upset me when Mommy would put me in a crib for me to go to sleep.  Sleeping was how I earned my keep around this place!

I remember that by the time I was Sixteen Days Old, I had already decided that I was a fan of Sixties Dance Music!  I think that's something that's going to be with me my whole life!  It just makes me happy all over.  And dancing is good for the soul!

Boy.  It's hard to believe now, but back then, I hadn't eaten anything besides Similac!  I thought that's all there was to eat!  I couldn't even have anticipated how wonderful food is!

Hiya, Friends!  I'm Sixteen Weeks Old here!  Finally, I'm starting to show some signs of life!

By the time I was Sixteen Weeks Old, I was starting to learn to eat Big People Food, Big People!  My first meal was rice cereal.  Not awfully exciting, but it sure was something, compared to all that Similac!  The next week, I got to try sweet potatoes!  I love sweet potatoes!  In fact, I haven't met any Big People Food I haven't liked.   

Pssssssst: I still love cake!  I just have been trying to modulate my love for cake, because as you'll remember there was talk of me having a "problem" with cake.  By "problem," I'm assuming those natterers that suggested such a thing really mean "addiction."  Yes, I've been doing some reading.  I don't have a "problem" with cake.  I'm just very enthusiastic about it.  So there.

Finally, this is me at Sixteen Months!  Sweet! Hahahaha!

 Yesterday, I turned Sixteen Months, and if I thought all my other Sixteens were exciting, I didn't know what was in store for me at Sixteen Months.  I can do all sorts of things now that I couldn't on those other Sixteens.  I have hair!  I didn't have hair on any of my other Sixteens!  I have some teeth!  That's new!  I can walk, and run, and dance, and climb, and ride on things, and face frontwards in the car, and exercise with Mommy (sort of), and feed myself bite-size Big People Food, and play with Rozzie, and build things with blocks, and pick out which books I want to read!  It's all so exciting for me!  It's exciting to be Sixteen Months Old, Friends!

And I'm excited that you stop in and see me, here on the World Wide Web.  My Friends are the best!  So remember, Zoe loves you, Big People!  Muah!

I'm Sweet Sixteen Today!

It's hard to believe I've been here for Sixteen Months!

 Hiya, Big People! Zoe here.  Today's Wednesday, January Ninth.  Do you know what that means? 

I'm Sixteen Months Old today!  That's right!  Sixteen months ago today, I came into the world and said "hiya, world!" I betcha it seems like not that long ago to you, but sixteen months is a LONG time for me!  My whole entire life!  Wowza!

Now, tomorrow, I plan to write a nice retrospective of the last year and four months, but as today's just getting started, I want to squeeze all I can out of it, so I'll have lots to tell you about!

It makes me wonder, Big People, how come when you're my age, you tell people how old you are by months, and by the time you get to your age, say, it's exclusively in years?

In my sixteenth month, I plan to conquer!

Does the math get too overwhelming after a while?  Do months feel shorter after a while? Its a phenomenon I've noticed.  Why, back in the day, when people'd ask Mommy how old I was, she'd tell them in weeks.  Then, gradually, I noticed it started being measured in months, and I admit that weeks have started to feel kind of short to me, so I understand.

But months... MONTHS, Big People?  Why, they feel like they take a LONG time to pass.  Not that I'm complaining.  I'm not saying I'd like time to fly by like it's a fighter jet or the roadrunner!  I'm just saying that I cannot imagine I'll get to a time in my life where I say "Pffffffft.  Months come and go so quickly, so I'm going to tell people how old I am in YEARS!"  Just seems like such a Thing, you know, Friends?

But today, I'm gonna dance!

Then again, you all probably thought the same way I do, once, and now look at you, speaking in years!

Anyway, I'll be back again tomorrow, to show you pictures of me from when I measured my life in minutes, and then hours, then days, then weeks, and now months!  But today, I'm going to have a good time.  I'm going to play some games with the Little Giraffes and then throw a Ballapalooza Dance Party with all my friends.  Sabretooth is going to launch me out of a T-Shirt cannon! (I'll wear a helmet!)  Wheeeee!

Mostly, I'm going to just have a Great Day, Friends, and if there's anything I want for my Sweet Sixteen Today, it's to know that all my friends are having a Great Day, too!  Can you do that for me, Friends?  Alllll right! 

And remember that Zoe loves you!  Muah!

Life Is A Bowl Of Ice Cream!

Sure, I'll scream for ice cream!

If I've learned anything from my Aunt Colleen, Big People, it's how to appreciate a good dish of ice cream.  That's right.  I just love the stuff.

A celebration isn't a celebration without it.  Think about it, Friends!  What do you have at birthday parties?  Cake 'n' ice cream!  It really makes for a festive mood.  Do you think it'd be the same if your party-host served cake 'n' mashed potatoes, or cake 'n' gruel?

What even is gruel, anyway?  It sounds kinda unappealing, when you get right down to it.  Like what they'd serve to people in the poorhouses.  Like that Oliver Twist fellow.  Isn't it gruel that he goes up to the fat man and asks for more of?  And the fat man throws a fit?  Well, I say the fat man shoulda been thrilled that Oliver wanted more gruel.  God love that Oliver for being so brave as to admit to liking such an unappealing dish!  I'll tell ya what!

Sabretooth has an ice cream headache!  Poor 'Tooth!

Back to my ice cream, though.  We've established that ice cream is more festive than mashed potatoes and gruel.  We don't need to belabor that point.

As good as ice cream is, and as happy as it makes people, there is a dark side to it.  For instance, did you know, Friends, that if you eat ice cream too fast, it gives you a headache?  Over in the picture to the right, my friend Sabretooth has fallen victim to the dreaded Brain Freeze brought on by eating ice cream too fast.  He's all right.  He just got a little zealous, celebrating the recent deal between the NHL owners and the hockey players.  He gets to go back to work at the arena on game nights, and that makes him happy, because he was worried that he was gonna hafta go back to work at the Mighty Taco.  He says working at Mighty Taco is one of those kinds of jobs where you're glad you did it when you had to, but when you don't have to anymore, it's fun to look back on your days working at the Emmm Teeee, but it's nothing you want to go back to doing.  I'm happy for Sabretooth!  He's happier around here when he's gotten to launch T-shirts at a hockey game!

I love to scoop ice cream!

As for me, I'm careful when I eat my ice cream.  I'll never forget my first ice cream cone.  It was at Bruster's in Wexford.  It was vanilla, and Mommy tipped my ice cream cone into a dish and I got to eat it with a spoon!  It afforded me the luxury of not having to hurry to eat my ice cream and get a headache.  And it was really delicious!

I'm looking forward to eating lots of different flavors of ice cream besides the ones I've tried before.  I think someday, I'm even going to try my hand at making ice cream.  I've heard a rumor that you can make ice cream right in your own home.  If that's true, why, you could make any flavor of ice cream that you wanted!  The sky'd be the limit!

I cannot wait to get started, inventing new ice cream flavors, Friends, if it's true that you can make your own ice cream at home!  I'm going to look it up on the World Wide Web!

And guess what, when you're talking about an ice-cream-worthy event, tomorrow, I turn Sweet Sixteen.  Sweet Sixteen Months, that is!  Look for my thoughts on that milestone on Thursday.  Tomorrow, I'll be too busy celebrating my Sweet Sixteen to write about it, but I will write about something else. 

Mmmmkay, Friends!  Don't eat your ice cream too fast and always remember, Zoe loves you!  Muah!

The Grand Canyon: There CAN Be More Than One!

Someday, this little monkey's gonna go west, yes I am!

Hiya, Friends!  Well, you know me!  I say I like to learn something new every day, and yesterday, I learned a biggie. 

All my life, I've thought I lived less than an hour away from the Grand Canyon.  You know, the big one the Brady Bunch took a trip to, and where you can ride a donkey to the bottom, and then ride it back up to the top.  So yesterday, I telephoned up the Grand Canyon that's less than an hour from my house, wanting to make an appointment to go on a trip with the donkey and such, and as it turns out, not only does the Grand Canyon less than an hour from my house not have donkey rides, it's actually the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon!  The Brady Bunch was never there on a vacation!

How about that?!

Welp, as it turns out, there isn't just one Grand Canyon.  There's the big Grand Canyon that's out west, and there's the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon less than an hour away from my house.  They're not the same thing, but they're both beautiful.  I'm glad I've learned about this now, before I had the opportunity to REALLY embarrass myself.

It's got me to thinkin', though, Big People.  I'd like to be in charge of a tourist attraction.  I'd like to make a little money, selling T-shirts and keychains, so here's what I'm gonna do: One of these days, I'm gonna take the garden hose and put it at the top of our driveway and let it run and run and run down the drainage rocks.  I'm gonna let it run so much that it fills up the drainage rocks and cascades down like a beautiful waterfall, and then, do you know what I'm gonna do?  I'm gonna call it the North Bingham Niagara Falls!  I'll put a T-shirt and keychain stand at the end of my driveway.  I'll get the Amish to build a casino in the pasture across the street, and I'll be all set!  You'll come, won't you, Friends?  Save your pennies!  Hahahaha!

And remember, Zoe loves you!  Muah!

I Got a Rhino!

Rhinos aren't as much fun as Little Giraffes.

 Hiya, Friends!  Well, I never thought it'd happen to me, because I'm almost sixteen months old, and it's never happened to me yet, but now it has.  I caught a rhinovirus, a rhino for short.  A cold. 

I'm not in bad shape, and I've had this rhinovirus since Tuesday, I think.  My nose is a little stuffy.  I've been relying heavily on my friend Mr. Snotty to keep me from having great gobs of grossness running down my face.  Mr. Snotty's great!  When I feel overwhelmed, I just say, "Clean me up, Snotty!" and Mr. Snotty plays me soothing music while he does his job.  I've even learned how to work Mr. Snotty all by myself.  This is a Major Development for me.

I also have been wearing a new perfume.  It's called "Vap-O-Rub by Vicks."  I just love it.  The minute Mommy opens up that jar, I stick my nose right in, and take a big whiff.  It opens up my nasal passages and makes my head feel all clear.  I love the smell of eucalyptus! 

At least my rhino isn't a charging one.

Twice a day, night and morning, I put on my Vap-O-Rub by Vicks.  I credit it for keeping me from being miserable.

Since I was on the World Wide Web, anyway, I looked up some things about the care and feeding of a rhinovirus, because I figured that now that I have one, I ought to care for it properly, and by properly, what I'm trying to say is I wanna kill it.  Because like General Patton always said, you need to find out all you can about your enemy in order to beat 'em! 

Well, I read that I hafta just let it run its course, because it's a virus.  That was a bummer.  I learned some interesting things, though.  I learned that rhinovirus comes from the Greek word meaning "nose," because the environment of the nose is where the virus can best thrive.  Huh.

I'll survive this, Big People! It's merely a head cold!

Also, I read that rhinoviruses are really small, some of the smallest viruses around.  They measure only about thirty nanometers in diameter.  Friends, I am not making this up.  Isn't it funny how something so small can make a whole human person, even a tiny human person like me so uncomfortable?  Isn't it funny how something so small can be so hard to beat?  And by 'funny' what I really mean is doesn't it just frustrate the heck out of ya, Big People?  It sure does me!

But it's going to be okay.  My house is nice and warm inside.  I don't have anywhere I hafta be.  I have my Vap-O-Rub by Vicks, and my trusty humidifier, and a stack of Little Monkeys books and a new Highlights Hello! magazine to read.  I'm going to be fine, Friends!  Just you see.  In a coupla days, I'll be back in tip-top shape!

I hope all of you stay in tip-top shape!  Wash your hands, or use hand-san if you're not near a sink.  Cover your sneezes and coughs with the crook of your arm, to catch the germs!  Drink lotsa water and humidify, humidify, humidify!  And I guess if you can stomach it, have some Onion Syrup.  I don't care for the stuff, personally, so I'm going to grab my rhinovirus by its horn and just swing it around my head for a little while, until it gets so dizzy it has to lumber off and go back wherever rhinoviruses go when they're kicked out!

Thank you, Alexander Graham Cracker Bell!

Hiya, Friends!  I'm on the phone!

Friends.  Guess what.  I love the telephone.  You know why?  Every day at lunchtime, and every evening before he comes home, my Daddy calls me on the telephone.  I can hear his voice, and everything!

It made me wonder where the telephone came from.  Who invented it?  When?  I mean, the telephone has always been around, my whole entire life, but it had to come from somewhere, didn't it?

Well, I got on the Internet, because as you know, the Internet knows everything, and I did some research.  As it turns out, the telephone was invented all the way back in 1875!  That's before my house was built!

And the fellow that invented the telephone was named Alexander Graham Cracker Bell!  How about that!  You know what?  Besides the telephone, I love graham crackers, too!

I make Big Deals on the phone!

I wonder if Alexander Graham Cracker Bell invented graham crackers, too, along with the telephone, or if it was an ancestor of his, for whom he's named.  I didn't think to look that up while I was doing my research on the telephone.  Friends, have you ever had graham crackers with icing on them?  They're good.  Mmmm!

What's that?  I'm supposed to be telling you all about the telephone?  You're right.  I apologize!

Back in the day, early telephones were shaped like candlesticks.  They didn't have dials.  You had to jiggle the thing the earpiece hangs on, and then you'd talk to your operator, Sarah.  All telephone operators were named Sarah back in the day.  It simplified things.  And you'd say, "Sarah, how are you today?  It's Flossie!  I'd like to speak to Sam, down at the butcher's, please!" And Sarah would connect you on her switchboard.  How about that?

Telephones are magical!

 Then they started putting dials on the telephones, and phone numbers were letters AND numbers, like KL6500 and the like.  Then it got so people could dial their own telephone numbers, and the Sarahs started memorizing telephone books so that people could call up and ask them what somebody's telephone number is.  It's a capacity that the Sarahs fill to this day, if you dial 4-1-1.  It's for information!

But not all the Sarahs are named Sarah anymore.  They can be named whatever they're named, but if you need to speak to a telephone operator, still be courteous to her, just like she's Sarah from the olden days.  It's just good policy!

As for me, I love my cordless telephone.  I can walk around and talk on it.  I can carry around my play vegetables from one end of my office to the other.  I can stack the rings on my sorting spindle, all while talking on my cordless telephone.  It's so much fun, when the telephone rings, and I hear a friendly voice coming through the speaker.

Telephones are a pretty great invention.  Now if only my friends could send me graham crackers right through Alexander Graham Cracker Bell's invention, that would just be the best! Hahaha!