Not terrible

Pajama day at daycare rocks. You just wake up the kid, throw a new diaper on her, give her some food, and you're on your way. Theoretically. In reality, it's not less work than any other day because Julie insisted that we de-pajama the child and re-pajama her into the infinitely more fashionable owl-in-yellow-scarf number in the above photo.

Lyla was hyper when I picked her up this afternoon. The kids were all in the gym doing whatever they do, and Lyla ran right past me and out the door into the hallway, sprinting all the way back to her new room. I huffed and puffed in after her.

"Lyla, we should probably go bye-bye."

"No bye-bye. Book!"

She ran to a little chair and picked up a (gag) Barney book.

"Bah-nee!"

Then she was off, book in hand and out the door into the hallway.

"Lyla, put the book back, please."

She tossed it in the general direction of the door and was off, back toward the gym.

"Lyla..."

It's like she was one of those pull-back toy cars after it's been pulled back and let go.

Finally I got my hands on her and threw her over my shoulder like a sack of very squirmy potatoes. Back at the discarded book, I leaned over with her so she could grapple it with her little claws, then walked with her to the chair, where she relaxed her grip and watched it bounce off the chair and onto the floor.

"Uh oh."

"It's fine. Hey, should we go home?"

"Book floor." She pointed at it and nodded emphatically.

"Hey, do you want to go home and eat pasta?"

"No home."

She'll be two years old in exactly one month. Can you tell?