Can we get workers’ compensation? We should be able to. Boisterousness breeds bruises. In his enthusiasm and determination to reach fascinating things (chest hair, unsuspecting cats’ tails, bottles of beer) we get in the way and feel the blows from elbows, fingernails, teeth and knees. Ouch! Oooff! Ack!

Another discovery of a gentler nature: he loves to twiddle. He comes upon something small (a raisin, a cheerio, daddy’s nipple) and pokes at it thoughtfully with one finger (Can I get milk from that? Hey! Daddy’s been holding out on me!). Twiddle twiddle!

On our minds (guess whose?)

• We’re going out for Halloween, to the Shore Club in Hubbards, same as last year. Except this time, no passenger in utero, I can indulge in a few beer. It’s the biggest and best party in Halifax, hundreds of people, all seriously decked out. It will be our first big night out since Evan was born, just Justin and Kate (a.k.a. ?). God bless Grandparents.
• Sometimes I don’t like eating. I squish my lips together and snort at them, they say like a snotty seal. But then they make me laugh and stuff in spoonfuls. They say Gotcha!
• I’m running out of milk these days. It is being rationed, saved like liquid gold for naptime when it works its magic. He pulls at my shirt, cheesy grin, kneeling at the trough. C’mon! Gimme gimme! I always figured when they get old enough to unzip you, it’s time to stop. But now that time has come, and it just makes me laugh. I like that he still needs me. I’m still his favourite, tutti-frooti.
• I like peek-a-boo. I know how to play, now.
• She’s making me go out for Halloween. It’s our annual argument. I pretend I don’t like dressing up, and she nags and nags, and finally I give in.
• He secretly loves Halloween. I’m fine with nagging, because we always have a fantastic time and then I can say I Told You So.