You May Kiss My Hand, Loyal Subject

I’m raising a princess.

My next-door neighbour has a little game he plays with Cakes. He adopts the cutest “baby voice”, puts on a big smile, and takes Cakes’ hand, giving her loud, exuberant kisses.

At first she was a little scared by this, but she’s gradually grown used to it. Now she grins with delight when he does it.

The other day, I was standing on the porch with Cakes in my arms, when Alan stepped outside. I said hello, then looked down at my girl as he laughed at her.

She had her little hand held out, and a coy smile.

Princess.



***

After my whining about my lack of social life, I find my calendar nice and full this week. Today I went for lunch with Penelope and Knitrovert at the Black Bull, our favourite patio. It was a perfect day to soak up the rays and knock back a couple of pints. After lunch we went to Kensington Market to walk off the midday beer buzz. I bought a whole bunch of sweet buttons at Courage My Love for my mom's upcoming crochet projects: monkeys, ladybugs, abcs, rainbows--all for ridiculously cheap. I bought Cakes a Johnny Cash tee (every babe should have a Johnny Cash tee).

Tomorrow night is Shakespeare with Sunshine; Wednesday night I'm going to the Foo Fighters acoustic show at the Hummingbird Centre; Saturday is the big TO Mamas spa-tastic get-together. Papa and Cakes are going to have lots of good quality time this week.