Good News.

I have one favorite moment from the whirlwind trip Walker and I took to Massachusetts this past weekend. And that's saying a lot, because there were plenty of great moments. Like? Well, like ...

Sitting with Walker in front of my Mom's fireplace and watching him try to wrap his mind around fire while having a bottle. He'd drink a little from his bottle then stop and rock forward on his butt to look at the fire. Drink from the bottle. Look at the fire. Bottle. Fire. Bottle. Fire.

Stopping at this great organic farmstand and café in Westminster, Vermont Saturday morning to enjoy a warm banana muffin and soak in the atmosphere—taking in all the neighborhood folks streaming in, enjoying the comfortable chit-chat between owner and customer, and watching a certain baby who shall remain nameless shamelessly beaming at every passer by.

Driving back to Vermont with Walker napping in the back, a piping hot coffee next to me, listening to a CD compilation that included "It's Not Unusual" by Tom Jones. And the sun was shining.

Sitting with Walker in the backseat of my Pathfinder at a rest area just an hour from home. Cozy in my big Michelin Man coat with him wrapped up in a blanket, feeding him a bottle, kissing his forehead, looking out at the cold, cold, snowy rolling hills. Feeling safe. Feeling at home.

And all of this doesn't even touch on the great visiting we did, all of the people we haven't seen in months - months! - and were able to catch up with and laugh with, nor does it describe some great homemade tomato soup I wolfed down Saturday night. Nope.

THIS is the one:

At our first visiting stop on Saturday, we got to hang out with my great friend Kate, her husband (and our friend) Angus, and daughter Aenea. Aenea is a beautiful girl. Beautiful. She is also a complete nut. A human pinball. A little electric life force that ricochets off every surface and comes insanely close to whacking her head on just about anything with a hard fixed corner. I can't count the number of times I had to look away. Almost reminded me of riding in an NYC cab (don't look straight ahead, look out the side window—THE SIDE WINDOW). Anyway.

She's also, at 2-1/2, apparently quite focused on personal private parts. When I was changing Walker's diaper .... with Aenea having a view that was almost unseemly, she asked "Where's his vagina?" I'm not practiced at this line of questioning but Kate didn't even blink, "He's a boy. Boys don't have vaginas. He has a penis." "Oh." came the response. Fair enough.

After a little while, some lunch, an aborted nap, and a weak attempt at a tantrum, Aenea came into the room with a clearly unhappy Angus ushering her in. I won't get into the details but suffice it to say that there had been a disastrous diaper incident and one messy little girl was standing in front of us. Which required her being put into the tub. Immediately.

As she emerged from her bath and lay squirming on the couch so Kate could get her dressed, she exclaimed with the kind of enthusiasm you just don't get much of these days—

"MY VAGINA IS CLEAN!"

Kate, without missing a beat replied, "That is good news."

Good news, indeed.