“oh, blythe!”

I’ve recently been thinking quite a bit about this series of toddler books surrounding a boy named David entitled, “Oh, David!” “No, David!” “David gets in Trouble.” “Ooops.” — you get the idea. Maybe I simply forget about the life surrounding toddler-hood (only long enough to be in it again), but lately I’ve had so many “oh, Blythe!” moments, I thought I might compile a little picture book of my own. They are as follows: a chocolate pudding facial; evidence of either a rodent or a two year old helping herself to a snack; and a color study in pink with my lipstick upon her body, my bathroom door and bathrobe. The two separate instances of finding her sitting in her sink covered in toothpaste (thank you, step stool) are missing, as well as the portraits of Blythe with gum on her eyelids and in her hair, twice (although fortunately in the bottom strands). Needless to say, Blythe cannot have gum for while — unfortunately, her most favorite treat.

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