Trick or Treat

Noah P. Can Moo, Can You?

No!

"Do you want some water, Noah?"

"No!"

"Do you want to go upstairs?"

"No!"

"Would you like some grapes?"

"No!"

Yes, he does. In fact he wants three helpings of grapes, with slugs of water in between, but why should that deprive him of the pleasure of saying no? Noah has discovered defiance. What's worse, it suits him. Meshes with his whole look. He's evaded a haircut for so long that we might have to just get him a skateboard instead. I can see it now. He could strap on his shades and shred it at Rittenhouse Square, tossing off a few Nos for the cops to chew on. Then he'd cruise home and tell me what I can do with my question about bath time.



But there's a disadvantage to being 19 months old. Your parents can still dress you up in adorable sweaters, and let's see you try pull off that defiant act with a fuschia collar around your neck, big shot. In fact, I think it's time to get over here and trim those bangs. And what's that? You'd like to go upstairs and read a story? Did I hear a please?

I'm a Cob Man

Remembering summer...