Garlic and rain and surprises.

Sometimes, when there are giant puddles in the driveway, you just have to give in and get the camera instead of trying to stop babies from stomping in the water. Even if they are wearing leather shoes.



And then you have to take them to a Garlic Festival.



There were definately not any vampires around. We missed out on the garlic ice cream, but reports from other festival-goers say that we didn't miss much.

Lillian planted the garlic bulb in the above picture for about 20 minutes. In the dirt, out. Then she sniffed it for a while. Then she tried to rub it on Naomi's head.

Naomi, meanwhile, was plotting.



In an interesting surprise, at day care pick-up last week, the teacher mentioned that Lillian was getting really good at her months of the year. "Oh, neat," I thought, not really getting it. That night, while the girls were helping me cook dinner, I asked her, "Can you say January?" Silence. "February?" More silence. I am not surprised. It would be silly for someone who is not quite two to know the months of the year, right?

"March?"
"Mach," says Lillian.
Me: "April?"
Lillian: "App-ill."
Me: "May?"
Lillian: "May."
Me (increasingly astounded): "June?"
Lillian: "Joo."
Me: "July?"
Lillian: "July."
Lillian: "Aaa-ust" (That's right. I didn't prompt her.)
Me (now dialing my mother on the phone to get a witness): "September?"
Lillian: "Mem-mer"
Me: "October?"
Lillian: gibberish. I am slightly relieved that she didn't just spit that one out, honestly.
Me: "November?"
Lillian: "Mo-mem-mem-mer"
Me: "December?"
Lillian: "Thember."
Me: (falls on floor.)
Lillian: (continues rattling measuring cups.)

So, yeah. Daycare's going well.