Not Quite Clear on the Concept

"Buh!"

That's Savannah's word for milk. It sounds like "book" but without the K.

"BUH!"

We're sure it means milk because she usually drinks her milk out of a certain type of cup and often just seeing that cup will elicit much pointing and many exclamations of "Buh!"

She also knows the sign for milk (opening and closing fist, like milking a cow, which isn't so bad now that her milk actually comes from a cow and not from me) and she will also add the sign if we say, "Do you want some milk?"

I know she can do the M sound because she says "Mama" all the time.
"Mama?"
"Mama!"
"MAAAAAAMAAAAA!!!"

So I'm trying to get her to say "milk." Or at least "Muh."

Savannah: Buh!

Me: Do you want some milk?

Savannah: (nodding, pointing, signing) Buh!

Me: Say milk. MMMMM-milk!

Savannah: MMMMM-BUH!

She's not quite there yet.
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And the Streets Were Lined with Candy

Last weekend we attended our town's annual 4th of July Parade.

Or as it is known to the townies, "The Horribles Parade."

Or as it is known in our home, "The Candy Parade."

This parade seems to have nothing to do with Independence Day or anything Horrible but there is a lot of candy, so that last moniker is probably the most fitting.

In this parade, the town's children and their families dress up in outlandish costumes and compete for prizes. There were lobstermen and princesses. A couple of kids with bald-head wigs covered in marbles (geddit? marble-head!) and lots of references to our recent spate of rain.

In addition to the costumes, many of the entrants toss candy into the crowd. Lots of candy. And some pretty good candy, too.

Sure, there are your hard candies (peppermint drops and butterscotches) that crack into a thousand pieces as they hit the pavement. But lots of families were throwing out Tootsie Rolls and Hershey's Kisses. Hell, I'd even dive into the street for those!

And that is exactly what all of the town's children who were not marching in the parade were eager to do. I was relieved that my child was not the only one chanting, "Candy! Candy! Candy!" while waiting for the parade to begin.

Unfortunately for my little cherubs (and perhaps fortunately for their teeth) we got stuck behind a small army of older elementary age boys who were extremely aggressive in their candy acquisition. At one point, I remember thinking they were dangerously close to attacking the parade entrants and simply taking the candy.

But my girls were able to scrounge a few pieces. Chelsea was ecstatic not only to be allowed to dart into the street but to pick up candy from the ground. We even managed to drop a piece in front of Savannah (and hold back her ferocious candy-foraging sister) so she could pick one up, too.

My favorite part was when one particularly generous and patient teenage boy came over to the girls and handed them each a little peanut butter cup.

Which I promptly shoved into my pocket and later ate.

Viva The Candy Parade! I'll miss you and your delicious free candy.



If you look on the far bottom right at 15 seconds, you'll see a little someone in a red tank top... that's Chelsea!
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