These bubbles are mine

We seem to be working on a lot of important lessons all at once lately: potty-training; saying please, thank you, and sorry; and returning to a sleep schedule after daylight savings time messed us up.

We had a minor victory in these pursuits yesterday on the way home from Atlanta. Delia was kicking David's seat, and we told her she couldn't listen to her CD until she stopped. We shut the music off, then heard a plaintive, "sorry" from the back seat. That was the first time she said the word without us pestering her about it for 15 minutes. Success! We actually taught her something.

Sharing, however, is another matter. Grandma bought Delia a great bubble toy that is designed for toddlers and won't spill. However, our sweet girl was very reluctant to let the rest of us touch her new prize.





Grandma wanted to show Delia how to blow the bubbles, but didn't get too far with her.



Great-grandpappy had better luck.






"I like when you tickle me, but you still can't touch my bubbles!"