I’m sitting on the floor folding baby clothes while Blake is running around at high speed through the bedroom. I hear a peculiar noise from his direction.

”Blake, did you just foof?”

He stops, grins widely, and repeats himself with obvious effort.

”You are so your father’s child.”

Blake asks to nurse fairly frequently, now that he’s figured out how to ask. One afternoon I decided to tease him a little.

”Nurse. Nurse.”

”Blake, what does your grandma do?” Silence. He watches me warily.

”What does your grandma do for a living when she’s not watching you?”

”Nurse,” he supplied finally.

”Uh huh. And what do you want to be when you grow up?”

Pause. ”Dandy.”

”You want to be a dandy?”

”Dandy. Dandy.”

I told you I was turning him gay.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 3/13/2005 08:45:00 p.m.