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Violet has her pink feather boa and the miniature sock monkey. She is winding the boa around and setting the monkey on top.

"Here you go, Monkey! Can I get on? Yes! Thank you!"

She hits Bobo with her hand.

"Did you just hit Bobo? The rule is, we don't hit Bobo. What is the rule?"

She looks at me from under a glowering brow. "I like hit Bobo. I hit Bobo riiiight...now!" She hits him with an open hand. Bobo scratches her. She wails.

"Violet, Bobo's just defending himself."

"No no no no nooooo! Monkey on back! Monkey on back!"

Does she have a heroin jones? No, she means it literally, and tries to stick the monkey on my back. He falls off. "Monkey here!" She tries again. Falls. Cries.

"Monkey egg!" she frowns, piling up the boa. "Super egg!" She lifts her arms into the air.

"Is it an egg?" I say enthusiastically, trying to fit in with her game.

"NO!" she shouts. "NO EGG! Bad, bad egg!" She pulls the boa up. Why am I always so wrong? Why am I the wrongest wrong ever to exist in the world? Thank God she finds her Baby Bright Ball and entertains herself playing "Merrily We Roll Along" over and over again.

I forgot to mention how proud I was of Phil on Saturday. Someone had brought a Fisher Price Corn Popper to the park and left it there, broken. Mr. Wizard over here just happened to have a screwdriver in his pocket, and took it apart, and fixed it using a stick to stand in for a broken piece of the toy. I was so proud. I walked around the whole playground track popping the corn. Pop pop pop pop! Now that's fun! My man is handy!