In which Papa Zesser finds an un-posted letter written back on July 29th, which looks at his daughter’s slow progress towards speaking — and her earlier long road towards walking — and doesn’t much worry about either.
Why not? you might ask. Well, simply put, it’s the other things she does so well, so remarkably well. Read more …
In which Baobao made a new friend on Friday and suffered her first taste of grief in very short order.
Balloons have mayfly lifespans, and the thrill of discovering their joys on Friday afternoon turned to tears and heartbreak on Monday morning.
Papa provided as much solace as he could, but was it enough? Read More …
“And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy. — Lewis Carroll
In which Carl the Second becomes Carl the Hero! Red more …
In which Papa Zesser ponders sudden panic, the dangers (and benefits) of comparing cousins, and revels in a sudden accomplishment. Also, he finds himself disregarding the advice of Doctor Spock against his better judgement.
