Little Beetle

A bonk and a wail from the front room. I peek around the corner to see that once again Zoe Ann has fallen backwards after a particularly enthusiastic hand gesture. She looks like a little beetle, soft underbelly exposed, hands and legs waiving helplessly in the air, wailing for assistance.

Because Zoe can't roll over. STILL. She crawls, she stands, she orders about, but she does not roll.

Well, to be specific, she can roll over, but chooses not to. Rolling from front to back, no problem. But so far only once, and with seriously bribery, have we convinced her to roll from back to front. Instead, our little beetle wails for help, and her wails are rarely in vain.

The few times we have forced ourselves to resist her feminine charm, a challenging work of will indeed, our efforts have been for naught. Come back ten, twenty, forty minutes later and she's still there, but now happily waving her feet in the air and marveling at her tiny, long fingered hands. As soon as she sees us notice, there's a squawk of discontent and then a crafty waiting. After all, she's the princess. We can't make her do anything. She knows Jed will roll her over when he gets back -- and sure enough, he always does.

PS- Michael adds: "She's a beetle with her soft little underbelly exposed and carnivores like me want to BITE IT!"