Grinky.com!

Emily and our parents went to Chicago this past weekend to see The Book of Mormon Pinkalicious.

The trip included her first train ride:

There was a tall building ... :

... pizza at Gino’s East ... :

... breakfast at Yolk ... :

... an urban playground (several times) ... :

... and of course the main attraction:

(Assessments of the musical varied by age. To get some idea on a scale of one to 10, start with 150 and divide that by the square of the attendee’s age.)

A movie star was sighted at Rock Bottom, where certain Pinkalicious patrons tried to wash away all memories of the play:

Look! A giant Woody!

The trip home:

For what it’s worth, we think Emily’s favorite parts of the trip were the cab rides from and to Union Station. Because there were no seat belts.

There were some. Here are some pictures:

Notice me in the above photo. I’m like Waldo.

Emily trick-or-treated as Belle this year:

She got lots of candy.

I got a rock.

Just in time for Halloween is the return of the Emily monster:

Pickin’ pumpkins:

In her costume:

Returned to normal:

Some people appear to live under the delusion that Emily and I lead exciting lives, and that monthly (or even weekly!) Grinky.com! updates are therefore merited.

Allow me to set the record straight. This is my life:

I have been assured that the days of my baby sister are similarly filled with tedium.

So please stop complaining about the dearth of new Grinky.com! content.

I promise you: If something interesting happens to either of us, I’ll let you know.

Did you know that 3.5 is one-twelfth of 42?

Me, neither. Anyway, happy birthday, Momma!

Pool pictures:

An old-school slide:

Some bath paints:

And modeling a new dress and new (accessorized) pajamas:

One day recently, Emily kept saying she wanted to show us something, but we couldn’t quite understand the words. We figured it out after she started to pull her pants down:

Ah, yes. She wanted to show us “The Plumber.”

This weekend, my parents and Emily went to see the play If You Give a Mouse a Cookie:

And our Independence Day fun included Grandma Janet, harmonica lessons, a big boat, and fireworks:

In truth, I don’t like fireworks. And that’s why my parents bought me the Thundershirt dog-anxiety solution.

Hey Thundershirt people! Where’s my product-placement dough?

You haven’t heard from me in a while, but that’s because things have been extraordinarily dull ... even for a family for which “extraordinarily dull” is pretty exciting:

See?

Emily is doing very three-year-old things, such as swimming:

She was also given Momma’s camera to use. Between you and me, she did no worse than her Daddy:

... so she shall now eliminate you:

Mommy, Daddy, and Emily went to Florida. They told me I could come when I was finished eating all the snow. Hmph.

Here was Emily dipping a toe into the water shortly after arrival:

Traditional annual photo at the Hotel Don CeSar:

Traditional annual Mr. Bones beer-coffin photo, now with more shark slippers with light-up eyes:

At the beach:

Near the beach:

Not nearly as close to the beach:

Celebrating Emily’s third birthday (again):

With Grandma Janet:

And even though there was a beach, Emily preferred to go to the playground:

Back home, Daddy built Emily a snow fort and then ambushed her:

Traitor.

Emily turned three years old today:

She got a blizzard.

Emily has enjoyed wearing her Happy New Year “headband” the past few days:

We celebrated the New Year with her at midnight GMT. I have no idea what that means.

Here Emily and I are sharing the bean-bag chair:

This wonderful invention is a recent discovery for me, even though we’ve had it for well over a year.

2011 will be the Year of the Big Girl. On New Year’s Eve, Daddy and Mommy magically transformed the crib into a big-girl bed — which allows Emily to enter and exit at will.

I don’t expect this will go well.

Grandma Janet visited the weekend before Christmas:

She brought a cape and muff for Emily, among many other things:

On Christmas morning, Santa brought Emily a Tinkerbell umbrella and Tinkerbell slippers, just as she requested:

(And a Tinkerbell bowl, and Tinkerbell underwear, and ... .)

The day after Christmas, Emily assisted in the making of this very small, devil-eyed snowperson that bears a striking resemblance to my Daddy:

Here’s Emily in front of our tree:

Here’s me in front of our tree:

On Christmas Eve, Emily helped make the cookies for Santa:

She put the cookies on the table for Santa:

And then she ate the cookies for Santa:

(In truth, Emily [like her Daddy] was just taste-testing the cookies to make sure they were good enough for Santa. You’ll notice that we started with four cookies on the plate, and there were still four cookies on the plate when Emily was eating one. Really, Santa! I swear!)

Emily liked helping to pick and decorate the Christmas tree.

This was the scene after it was done:

And the tree itself:

(My German is very good.)

We all know that when it comes to leaf-raking and -bagging, children are most useful as impediments to make the adults’ work harder:

But they can also be used to pick up leaves:

And although it displeases the children, they can also be made to rake:

Yet unbeknown to most parents, children can also be effectively employed as leaf-compactors:

And that makes everybody happy:

Kids: Let this be a lesson to you about the perils of not brushing your teeth!

Emily is sometimes pretty cute:

Grandma, Grandpa, and Uncle Ron visited for Thanksgiving:

I am happy to report that I got some turkey.

The pants-less wonder feeding me peanut butter:

Eating a baby orange:

Nursing a boo boo:

And while I’m no photographer, I think this was shot through a yellow filter. Or a yellow balloon:

This is Emily the bumblebee on Halloween, shortly before trick-or-treating:

And our pumpkin:

And Emily wondered if anybody was down there:

... she is absolutely, positively ready for Halloween.

The parental philosophy of natural consequences dictates that when a 970-day-old child drops her fork on the floor, she can eat with her hands.

This is the natural consequence of that.

Offered without comment:

Daddy: “Open, Sesame.”

The garage door opens. Daddy pushes the stroller inside, then walks back outside.

Daddy: “Close, Sesame.”

The garage door closes.

Emily: “Thanks, Sesame!”

I’ve joined a gang at school.