Hello, Pushkin

Another big week over here. Mae had her first cookie... and then her second, and then her third. We're actually almost half finished the box. Don't worry though. They aren't good cookies. Not like those chocolate-covered marshmallow ones with the jam inside or anything. They're more like responsible dissolve-in-your-mouth Styrofoam-type cookies made mostly of rice.

When she sees me coming with one, she opens her mouth wide and juts her chin forward to reach for it with her face. Then she roars like a lion and spends about ten minutes goobering it into sticky mush that hardens to cookie cement all over her face, her hands, her clothes, the floor and anything else nearby.

The other day I was getting ready to go out and just happened to glance in the mirror. I had a tiny hand print made of cookie cement on my boob - like I'd been felt up by Cookie Monster.