Josephine had her 18 month old check up yesterday - and she whimpered and clung to me the whole time. I love love loved it. She didn't say any of her 300-some words to the doctor, but as soon as the doctor left (traumatized by Jo's trauma), Jo looked at me and asked, "Shot? Doctor? Shot? Hurt? Shot?" Little did she know, soon to arrive was a kindly nurse toting a single needle. Jo was absolutely dumfounded by the injection. Not so much crying as genuine hurt and shock that I would subject her to such torture. And, Josephine sad is not something a person likes to see. Her whole sweet face crumples like it is just not fair. True, it's not as cute when she's tattling, begging, or pantsing me in public. But it sure is cute when I get to be the good guy (without the needle) and she's snuggling me.
Her stats:
Almost 25 lbs. (75%ile)
32 1/2 inches tall (75%ile)
Head circumference (Giant. I don't even know, but 90%ile. And all this time, I thought it was just her curly mop.)
She is the quintessence of joy (for another six months before she's officially "terrible").
Love my Jo.
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