Chunk

Last night when Shawn got home from work, I was in Avi's room feeding her. He asked, "What's wrong with the Chunk?" I reassured him she was fine but began pondering the poor child's future. We've been calling Avi derivatives of "Chunky Monkey" since she started putting on her baby fat (mostly in her cheeks and thighs. Her cheeks and double chin started several ongoing family jokes about needing crutches to brace up her face.) She has, however, started to slim down with her increased movement and coordination. Last night I imagined a pitiable pre-pubescent Avi being called "Chunk," her self-esteem level lying somewhere below the Mariana Trench and her parents being the subject of verbal abuse gossip. Taylor is still being called "Dude" but I'm hoping "Chunk" will fall by the wayside before it does any damage...

We completely forgot about changing the clocks last night even though it's right on our calendar. Shawn wondered aloud why the clock on the computer was different than the one on the phone and the deduction didn't take long to occur. Whoops!