Squeaky swings and tall grass

"Can Gina be four just like me on her next birthday?" - J's nannying charge, whose imaginary (?) best friend is a girl named Gina who works at Bakers Square.

I apparently had quite an effect on her after serving her a funny face breakfast last summer. This kid is my constant source of hope that I will someday be a fantastic mother. I have one other thing going for me... after reviewing last week's angry onslaught of mail at work, I decided that I won't ever refer to my children as "sexual indiscretions brought to fruition". Between that and my chocolate chip pancakes I think we should be good to go.