Meet Maxine A. Sassypants. And boy are her pants sassy. (And her middle initial really is A.)

She’s mastered the word “No”. It’s a full two-syllables how she uses it though. Much more sassy that way.

She asks for books. Or really one book. One Mole Digging a Hole is on permanent rotation in our nites and in my head.

And she’s recently discovered the world of boo-boo’s and their dressings. I’m fairly sure she thinks the band-aid is the boo-boo but whatever. They’re close. She cries when her band-aid falls off or is removed. Not because it hurts. Because she misses the band-aid. Which is both really sweet and kind of sad. What an emotional roller coaster life must be when you’re reduced to tears over a lost band-aid. The coping skills of an 18-month old are not vast.

She’s started to string together two-words. “Hello Daddy”, “Mama baby” (when she wants me to retrieve her from her crib), and now “Muh boo-boo” (my boo-boo). The last two she says in the saddest little self-pity drenched tone any person - baby or adult - could muster. It would break your heart if it weren’t so cute.

And if I weren’t busy retrieving her from her crib or getting her a new band-aid.