Good medical news from Casa de Cheeky: Oodgie has been cleared to walk without her moon-boot. Despite her repeated attempts to re-injure it ("see, if I twist it like this it doesn't hurt") and a maniacal dedication to pushing strollers up and down stairs--whatever the cost--her foot has apparently healed enough to remove the time-chamber and return to it's normal, massage-demanding self.
Cheeky also had a check-up today. We learned that:
- It's more painful to remove your clothes than to get a shot
- She's in the 92nd percentile in height
- She's only in the 69th percentile in weight (eat shit, doubters)
- Just because every other kid is using words like "septuagenarian" and "mitosis," we shouldn't be worried that Cheeky still calls dogs "ga!" and Elmo "eh!"
Sadly, I'm off to L.A. again tomorrow (which, apparently, just blew up...the hell?) so I'll be unable to play basketball with Cheeky or watch her mommy hit her foot with a shovel. "Yeah, it's definitely feeling much better!"