A Baby Is Not A Toy ...

We spend a lot of time wondering what Milo could say if he could talk, which is why I love what Dooce had to say about her daughter's first sentence.

Sometimes we talk about what we'd like Milo's first word to be, because we like to imagine that we have some level of control over it. We joke about how, given the language we use around the house, there is a good chance that his first word could be "motherfucker."

On Sunday, after spending hours in Newark after getting bumped off a flight, we fantasized about how great it would be if Milo's first sentence was "Continental sucks my ass."

So much of having a baby at this age seems to be about getting him to perform stupid human tricks, or treating him like aplaything, which includes dressing him up in silly clothing . I've started naming Milo's outfits, for no reason other than that they seem to demand names. We have Surfer Boy (bright yellow shirt and board shorts), Middle Manager at a Software Company (golf shirt and khakis), Neil Young (longsleeved t-shirt sewn into shortsleeved plaid shirt, paired with jeans) and this morning I came downstairs to find my son dressed in something that can only be called Operation Desert Storm.