Beach Babies

Last night I asked Clint why Mimi looked so different. She has been completely lathered in sunscreen, so I don't think she has gotten more tan (although she is naturally more tan than I am -- not fair). "It's not her skin," he said. "It's her hair -- it's blonder."
Ah, something I know absolutely nothing about. Blonde hair. When I was her age, my skin turned pink and my hair might get a red tint if I snuck in some Sun-In, but never blonde. People pay a lot of money for that kind of stuff.

Sweet, happy Emerson -- Mimi's beach BFF. Three generations of crazy women.

Sand between my toes.

Trying to capture the "wildness" on film. Ready for their performance on stage. Just add Hadley and they'll have the white girl version of Destiny's Child.

They love to climb on the coffee table and watch cartoons.

"Emmy, please play Ring Around the Rosies with me so I can pull you down!"

I have already decided that Emerson will definitely win most photogenic whenever Emeri decides to put her in Little Miss Perfect Pageants (he he). Here is the "serious Em": The "playful Em":

The "I've got a secret" Em"

And she has a really funny sense of humor. Emerson loves to play "poo poo." Hang on, I've got to laugh for a few minutes before I can write the rest. Last night she turned to Brad and said, "Poo poo." When he asked if she had, she smiled and said, "No," and then he said, "Oh, you're just playing poo poo." She said, no, her daddy had done that and raised the back of his shirt to check his "diaper!" Oh my goodness, my side is hurting right now.

And they can't be wild all the time . . . she melts like butter, as my mom says.