I. Whenever I'm carrying her, Genevieve loves to attack and try to remove anything on my head: hat, sunglasses, eyeglasses, and especially those dastardly hearing aids. I almost dropped her the other day when she gouged at the left device and pushed it so far into the ear canal I couldn't dig it out. Painful, man.
II. Julia is very concerned, at each meal and snack, about her utensils. We habitually put out a fork and a spoon, no matter when we're eating, and invariably she'll scan her plate, determine that one or the other is superfluous, and pose a characteristic question, "What's for my spoon?" Tonight, I was hurrying a bit too much and accidentally put two forks next to her plate. She actually yelled in shock when she walked up and saw them both there, then gave me the three-year-old's third degree: "Daddy, you gave me TWO forks! I don't need two forks! Why am I having two forks? I'm going to put one away!" Brandishing one fork in each hand, she marched over to the kitchen counter, chose the inferior one, put it on the corner, and marched back to her chair.
These quirks aside, the girls are increasingly able to share time and space. This shot, from a scene that lasted about ten minutes, makes me very happy:
