OmegaDotter was a dog today. She was boppin' around on all fours, going, "Woof! Woof!", bringing me and OmegaDad things in her mouth. OmegaDotter developed a cold yesterday after our outing (OmegaDad blames the outing; I blame two weeks of germs festering in the body that suddenly decided to erupt). This is actually related to the dog thing, I promise! See, OmegaDotter has a record of being violently opposed to medicine in all forms. My daydream has been that some saintly pharmaceuticals company scientist will finally develop The Child's Cold and Flu Patch^TM, and she (or he) will immediately be hailed as a hero by parents of toddlers everywhere and nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize by common acclaim. Unfortunately, this remains a daydream. Thus, when the dotter is sick, the OmegaParentalUnits have to resort to bribes, ice cream, threats, and finally, when all else fails, physical force to get the dotter to take medicine. No matter what delicious kid-appealing flavor the medicines come in, there will always be The Aftertaste, which is, as everyone knows, just plain nasty. The end result is a horrid scene. However! On three separate occasions, the doggie willingly and eagerly did an "up" command and got--medicine!--as the "treat"! Will wonders never cease. (The doggie also got horsie stuff as a reward for being so good. OmegaDad has become quite the connoisseur of cheap plastic horsies, locating them for circa $2 at Target, Walmart [the Evil Empire], and other places.)

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Final snow total: 28 inches.