Margaret (or Max, as she tells me she’d like to be called)* was practicing getting dressed. Or treating me like a bull that needed fighting. I’m not sure which.
I really don’t know sometimes.
Ellie was unimpressed.
And then bored and slightly out of frame.**
*Really. She was saying Margaret with the rs in it this morning (as opposed to the usual “Mamet,”) and I said that we had given her a hard name, and asked if she’d like to be called Maggie or Meg or Maisy or M or any of the other names that we’d thought of, and she said “call Margaret Max.” So I guess she wants a wolf suit.
**It’s hard to take pictures of a kid that one is holding. Cut me some slack.
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