A Rose by Any Other Name
You know, I used to be a good blogger. Once. Before social networking came along , psssting at me from the shadows. Scratching that feedback itch ever so much faster than posting and publishing ever could. And so I lapsed.
The biggest fail in this to my mind, is that while I kept you posted on everything the CP said and did, and every emotion he evoked in me, Sparkle has gotten short shrift. Now she is one, and I feel like you hardly know her, and you are the poorer for it. My fault entirely.
She is a delight. She looks just like her brother although I think she favors her mother more than the CP who leans more towards his Dad. While he proceeds carefully and likes to have company, she barrels full speed ahead and could care less if you are following behind. And, she is his biggest fan.
All he has to do is enter the room and she will drop your baby kissing, toe tickling, hand clapping self like a hot potato.
The CP got his blog-nomer from Sarcasdad, who took one look at his face from 6,000 miles away and said "what a cutie patootie". Sarcasdad is the giver of nicknames. In fact , if you lived here you would know Sarcasmo Jr, as Shorty. So when we were made aware that the CP was going to have a little sister, Sarcasdad was keenly aware that we awaited with baited breath, the moniker by which the blog world would know her. But these things can't be rushed, and necessity led me to adopt the name the Ladies Who Weekend gave her after a weekend of wine enhanced bonding. Originally longer, we short-handed it to Sparkle.
It was not quite right, however nothing else was coming to mind. But, in his own fashion, Sarcasdad has come through. I realized it the other day when I was putting Sparkle in her car seat and I said. C'mon Zo-miester, let's go bye bye."
Zo-meister. It so fits. And who calls her that ? Sarcasdad.
So the Cutie Patootie, the CP, is joined by the Zo-miester, the ZM.
A mutual admiration society.