Greetings in Febtober

So my turntable did arrive yesterday, and many of you already know that because I called you and made you listen to it over the phone. To your credit, you all faked enthusiasm beautifully.

The sound really is marvelous, and because its a 6-record stackable (so it plays one after another, up to 6), I get to hear that cool retro sound of the record dropping. The Widge is fascinated, because sounds are coming from some boxy thing in our dining room, and because the whole business arrived in a very big box.

Speaking of the Widge, here are some Christmas photos for your enjoyment:

You can see that the pacifier (better known as the plug) is basically a constant feature. I like it best when he crams two or three in at once, or when he hangs it out the side of his moth, like a mobster with a cigar. He spends much of his free time apparently finding hiding places for them: once we discovered one hidden behind a poster on the wall of his room. He's very talented with this, so talented that we've lost roughly 6 or 7 plugs since Christmas. To balance that, he really only likes the one type of plug, the most impossible to find. I'm told this is all part of that curse that parents put, the I-hope-you-have-a-child-just-like-you curse. Folks, the curse, as Bill Cosby noted, works. Before you have kids of your own, think carefully: were you a hellion in your youth? Maybe a houseplant is the way to go. I can't complain too much: I got the plug thing and the resistance to sleep in any form, but on the other hand he's been carrying books around, telling himself stories based on the pictures. Yesterday while I was setting up the turntable, he pulled "The Road to Valley Forge" off my bookshelf, opened to random page, and began "reading". Plus, in liking such a rare plug, he gives me an exciting challenge, and I get to do happy touchdown-style dances whenever I find a plug. Every day is an Easter egg hunt here. As you see, he's pretty serious about the train driving, too. This particular train (I think its official name, the one that appears on the timetables, is: "Big TrAAAAAAIN!") now runs from the train table in his room to the kitchen: perfect for those commuters in the food-service industry. On special occasions it runs to the bathroom as well, for the special holiday outing.

In conclusion: what happened to January?!? Where did this Feb business come from!!! Now I have to pay more bills. I must say, though, in spite of being such a short month, February really packs it in, celebration-wise. Props for that, except it complicated my correspondence by introducing more event-specific cards.

Speaking of events: in Superbowl picks, the official Skiphaus prediction is: the Giants. Because husband likes the Giants, and because I don't like Brady. I'm not actually planning to watch the game, it would ruin my streak of Superbowl avoidance. Although for all of you on the fence about watching, apparently Victoria's Secret purchased an ad spot, if that helps your decision-making any.