Impression of a Mommy

This scene was recently enacted in the living room.

(Daughter enters stage left in a huff. She pounds the buttons of her toy cell phone with ferocity. )  "Hello? Yes? What. What."
Pause.
"Hurry, I need to go take my twelve-bath."
Pause.
"UGH." (She wanders, harried, searching through random bags.) "Hang on, hang on!"
(Retrieves a toy.)
"I will call you back in a minute!"'
(Slams phone. Hurries to the bathroom). "No, kitty, no! Do not use the toilet!"





The accuracy is a little unnerving.

Introducing "Unca-Xander"

  My daughter, the Princess-Who-Does-Not-Like-To-Wear-Crowns-and-Insists-She-Will-Grow-Up-To-Be-A-Gentleman, received a doll for Christmas from her great-grandparents. It was hard to tell which of us was more excited. My daughter was ecstatic because the doll came with a working umbrella and a bright red rain outfit. I was thrilled because I had been dying to buy a doll for her and just couldn't justify the expense of a certain name brand.
   I asked her what she would name the doll. She looked thoughtful. "I don't know," she answered. Her face spoke of many agonizing hours to come, deep in thought.
   The next day, as she carried the doll around the house, I asked again. "What is your doll's name?"
   "Oh!" She spun about. "Unca-Xander."
   "I'm sorry, what?"
   "UNCA-" she said, "XANDER."
   "Uncle Xander?" I asked. "You mean, like your Uncle Alexander? We call him Xan?"
   "Yes," she said. "No," she went on. "Unca-Xander."
   I meant to continue the conversation and attempt to salvage the moniker, but I had already fallen into a fit of laughter, so the child and doll moved on, unperturbed.
 
   Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce our beloved Uncle Xan:

and THIS, if Unca-Xander:

The resemblance is simply uncanny.

The Princess is simply in love.