"Old MacDonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-oh," sang Jamie. "And on this farm he had a..."

"Pooh shoe!" said Lucy.

We have no idea what that means. Rooster, maybe?

Meanwhile, the Lu is beginning to express preferences in the fields of music and food.

When we play the "For the Kids" disc, she never lets us get past Cake's version of "Mahna Mahna."

"Spesha song! Na na song! NOT THAT SONG!" she will yell, the instant the CD player clicks over to track two. For whatever reason, she's not a fan of the Barenaked Ladies or Sarah MacLachlan. She digs Guster, though.

And the other day, she had her first taste of popcorn (Blockbuster was giving out samples). She's a fan.

"More cah-porn!" she said, waving her empty cup at me. I told her we'd go home and I'd make her more popcorn. I was sure I had a packet of microwavable stuff kicking around somewhere. Turns out, I didn't. And Lucy would not be satisfied with anything else.

"How about some animal crackers?"

Head shake. "Cah-porn!"

"Edamame? Dried cherries?"

"Cah-porn! Cah-porn!"

So we just got back from the supermarket where we purchased cah-porn. Which, let me assure you, is not a phrase you want your twenty-month-old yelling in the supermarket.



Jen