We�ve discovered a new form of entertainment in the Harriet household. AJ would say �What�s that game called?� -- a frequent question these days, as he desperately tries to understand the meaning of the word �game.� It�s called �The game of taking advantage of AJ�s penchant for copycatting.� The rules for this game are simple. Try to get AJ to learn an unlikely phrase and then repeat it to someone else.

Today�s most successful round of this game included getting AJ to say, �I like your moxie!� to a total stranger. It was beautiful.

Of course, he also screams �Move it or lose it!� at any cars in front of us that he feels are not going fast enough. I just hope he doesn�t try that one on a slow-moving cart in our supermarket, which, since it is adjacent to a retirement community center, is often full of slow-moving carts. I feel it�s only a matter of time before the management escorts us out and we will have to find another place to shop.

I have attained new levels of grumpiness today. AJ popped up at 4 a.m. yelling "Play with me!" and I spent the subsequent two and a half hours trying to get him to stay in bed before giving up at 6:30 and sucking down truckloads of coffee for the rest of the morning. I have now attained that weird too-much-caffeine-but-not-enough-sleep buzz that always makes me giddy and changeable, laughing my head off one minute and biting someone�s head off the next. Rather like a small bi-polar terrier.

On a positive note, AJ and I just about wrapped up the Christmas shopping this morning at the Mall of Depression. The Mall of Depression is one of those old shopping malls that doesn�t quite meet the modern definition of �mall.� It has all those stores you might go to a mall for, but they somehow all seem subpar, like poor cousins. It�s laid out like a star with a department store at the end of each radius, but the department stores are smaller, less chic versions of the ones at the big regional mall a couple of exits down the tollway. And the geographical arrangement virtually ensures that what you are looking for is always as far away from you as it could possibly be. The middle of the mall is full of a horrifying looking overgrown playpen for screaming, sniffling children and a 3 mile long line waiting to have pictures with Santa. Over all is the lingering stale smell of fried foods drifting from the food court. This smell, along with the total absence of any kind of natural light makes the place feel somehow unhealthy. But at least it�s less crowded than most of the area malls, which is why I still shop there sometimes (not shopping in some kind of a mall is simply not an option here, unless I go all the way downtown). While I didn�t find much at the Mall of Depression, I did find what I needed, so it served its purpose as it usually does.

This afternoon will be spent trying to sustain the caffeine buzz. If I get anything at all accomplished, I think I�ll be happy. I am otherwise in danger of slipping into some kind of coma.

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