an open letter

Dear Lola,

It's true that you are my only child. As such, I find your every move, antic, and thought to be delightful and precious and noteworthy. Every minute I spend with you is sunshiney and butterfly-y and joyous, and I'm quick to admit that. However, it seems to have escaped your notice that it is like TWO DEGREES OUTSIDE. It even SNOWS. In other words, when we go walking, it is BUSINESS TIME (and not in a Flight of the Conchords kinda way...) and not really an ideal time for you to chase every moving blade of grass, inspect every mailbox, and sniff every cigarette butt. Please let's just speed things up and save all your excitement about life for the (heated) indoors.

Thanks and love always,

Mama

Pictorial Evidence of Snow:

PS. I originally had a link to the Flight of the Conchords song I referenced above, then removed it because if you're not familiar with FotC you could be offended if you just blindly jumped into that song. :) I recommend hitting up YouTube and checking out as much of their work as you can, particularly Hiphopopotamus v. the Rhymenocerus, Jenny, and then easing your way into Business Time. By then you should have a feel for how dorky, silly, and tongue-in-cheek these guys (and their songs) are. Enjoy!