Last night, the little angel realized her own strength.  I knew she was strong - she sometimes flails on the changing table and kicks me in the stomach hard enough to make me wheeze - but I don't think she knew she was strong. Now she does.

We have these fake-suede throw pillows on our couch from Costco (God bless you, Costco, maker of cute, fake, cheap things that still sort of look nice).  They are pretty heavy for pillows.  We usually throw them down on the floor when the little angel is scaling her anywhere chair so she does not split open her melon on the hardwood floor if she happens to miss the rug. 

Last night, she started picking up the pillows and hoisting them around like she was a member of a construction crew, making little grunting noises and sweating.  I could almost see her chewing tobacco while she was doing it.  I thought she would stop after a stack or two, but she just kept rearranging them, grunting, sweating, thumping those pillows around for at least ten minutes, apparently delighted with her own brute strength.  Aha!  I control the world!

When she was finished, she was so exhausted she threw up.  Not a lot, just a little. I wonder what she will do after they make her run a mile in the Presidential Fitness Test?