Where the wild things are

My four-month old daughter has developed a new talent: screaming like a banshee. It starts as a cute little murmur, quickly rolls into a full-throated howl, and crescendos in a piercing shriek of operatic lung capacity. seriously, she can go a good 15 seconds without taking a breath. My wife has started calling her Tara, short for pterodactyl. No students of paleontology we, but if they make a Land Before Time part CCLXVIII, she could be the voice of Petrie's descendants. Now try to imagine the sound I just described backed by the ambient noise of a pack of hyenas, and that's our apartment when the two-year old is awake. He can't talk, and when he isn't laughing like a maniac, he's babbling like one--all while scampering around like one of the lemurs in Madagascar. These two aural effects combine to create a cacophony of chaos that composes the soundtrack of my life... okay I'm exaggerating. actually it usually only lasts about 10 minutes, until I put the banshee in a bouncy chair or give the lemur a lollipop. But if you ever call our house and it sounds like we have the Nature Channel turned up way too loud, just be thankful you don't live where the wild things are.

Ella at 75% volume