No Junk in the Trunk

After dinner this evening Lana and I headed to Walmart to pick up a few groceries. We were walking through the parking lot when a minivan in front of us opened its side door to reveal an interior that was less than tidy. Lana literally gasped when she saw it and yelled, "Oh! JMo! They got junk in that car!" I nodded in agreement and attempted to hustle her past the offensive car and its within-earshot occupants, but Lana would not be deterred. "Junk, JMo! They got JUNK!!"

We made it into the store without offending anyone else and enjoyed checking out the selection of goldfish (real ones), sunglasses, and winter coats. At one point Lana walked around modeling both a faux-fur trimmed coat and a pair of Pooh sunglasses that she picked out, declaring, “I look pretty!” to anyone that walked by. By the time we returned to our car and I opened the trunk, I’d completely forgotten about the messy minivan. Lana apparently had not. She took one look inside the car and said in her most official and approving tone, “We don’t got junk in our trunk.”

Monthly Update... Update

Dear Lana,

For two years now, I have spent time at the end of each month (and too often the beginning of the following month) writing a post to you about your exploits and adventures. It has been a wonderful way for me to preserve all the amazing moments we’ve shared together and document important milestones like your first introduction to solid foods, first public bout with constipation, first steps, first day of school, and your first obsession. And now it’s over.

I’ve decided, after much consideration, that the 25th month marks a good time to discontinue formal monthly updates. Mostly because if I don’t stop now, I’m sure I’ll find myself up late at night trying to finish a recap of month 182. But at least that month should be easy: “Dear Lana, you rolled your eyes at me a lot this past month. Please cut it out. Love, That Woman You Don’t Like to be Seen With.”

This in no way means that I won’t continue to provide updates on new developments, like your sudden fixation with “Clifford the Big Red Dog” and new bedtime ritual, which requires that a minimum of nine stuffed animals join you in your crib each night. I’ll also continue to report on all the incredibly endearing moments, like hearing your voice over the baby monitor as you awake in the morning and immediately begin singing “Happy Birthday” to one of your many crib-mates. It’s just that I may do it a little less often. You’ll be glad for this come month 182.



Love,

JMo