Monday, February 20, 2006
Well, not a whole heckuva lot to report from Connecticut. Life chugs along whether we really pay attention or not. Brittiny is nearing the end of her research project. She has been extracting DNA/RNA from a human placental cell line and studying the effects of cigarette mutagens on a particular jean (Jordache, I think) involved in fetal development and growth.
The real news is that the Backstreet Boys are back together. I saw them perform at halftime of the Probowl in Hawaii. Man, they've never looked like bigger tools. I can't believe my sister Kellie used to be crushing on Nick Carter.
Okay, okay... so that's all faux-news. The real news -as relayed by the new pics above - is thatBrooklyn is now eating a lot of normal food. When I say "normal", I mean normal in the sense that her peas are unrecognizable as such and her jar of turkey looks like humus and smells like a fart. Oh, and when I say that our Brookers is "eating" this normal food, I use that term in the loosest sense as well. Brooklyn usually ends up wearing about 1/3 of what we slip into her agape mouth, as her excessive drool tends to act like a lubricant on her tongue -- imagine vaseline on a Crocodile Mile (c'mon, you guys remember what a Crocodile mile is?!) -- making food retention difficult. Still, she manages to actually eat some of the solids. Oh, that's another thing, these foods can't be called "solids". Let's just say the wise man did NOT build his house upon Gerber's strained squash and carrots.
Anyway, Brooklyn has newfound energy due to her dietary evolution. This has led her to become more vocal. She's also growing stronger and bigger by the day, though not as strong as our Neighbor, Screaming Henry. He could probably be described as a miniature Incredible Hulk, which I guess makes him just a normal hulk, or whatever... Tauna (Henry's mom) actually brought him over to deliver Brooklyn's Valentine's Day gift this last week. Henry brought a cute little outfit that Brookers will love. The card he wrote had something about "16 years from now, when your dad lets you date, look me up." Dad doesn't want to think about the day when the rest of the male population finds Brooklyn beautiful, too...
Created by B^4 at 10:22 PM