The fishy puzzle

Eirinn loves puzzles.  I’ve said it before because it’s true.  She loves puzzles. 

Puzzles have replaced television as her all-time favourite past time.  She doesn’t do those puzzles where the little wooden pieces have the same shape as the little holes on the board.  Oh, no.  She doesn’t even own one of those.  She does the big kid puzzles with the puzzle-shaped pieces that fit together like a puzzle.  Can you tell I’m not a puzzle person?  I have no idea how to describe them.

I know!  Pictures!  Pictures always help the verbally disabled.  Like myself.

She don’t do this kind:

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She do this kind:

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With great speed and accuracy.  She has a few of them.  They have either 20 or 24 pieces and, oddly enough, they are all scenes of under the sea.  Maybe that’s the universal toddler puzzle picture du jour.  I wouldn’t know, being a non-puzzler and all.

I think this is great.  The puzzles as a whole allow her to practice her hand/eye coordination and the topics of the puzzles (numbers, opposites, and the one in the picture, colours) are very educational.  She has improved her knowledge of colours exponentially.  Improved, not mastered, but it has taught her more than we could any other way.  And we’ve tried.  We started to think she was either colour blind or had a whole in her brain where her colour recognition should have been.  Turns out she’s just stubborn and wanted a puzzle to teach her, not Mommy and Daddy.

She does them non-stop.  First thing in the morning I have to dodge pieces to get her cereal to her mouth (yes, I still feed her her breakfast – geniuses shouldn’t have to feed themselves).  After work she runs to her puzzles and does them over and over again.  “Do puthle ‘gain?”  I think it’s safe to say that she lawbs her puzzles.

***

In other news, my sister got a puppy for Christmas.  Well, it started out a puppy.  A cute, little, black and white, Shih-Tese (say that in your head and I dare you not to laugh).  Sophie is a Shih-Tzu, Maltese cross which, even though we paid for a pure bred Shih Tzu, we’ve always suspected Bosco to be.

I say she “started out” a puppy because in her short three month life, she has morphed into a wee little devil-dog.  If you’re furry and small, she will eat you.  If you even remotely resemble a shoe, slipper, or sock, she will eat you.  If you are my daughter’s pants, she will eat you.  Or at least try, seeing as her teeth are still little pin pricks. 

She absolutely tortures poor Bossy.  She pulls his tail, bites his arse, hangs off his ears.  All this makes him bark, which makes Murphy bark at Bossy, which means Bossy then has an evil midget devil-dog hanging off his butt and a big ol’ meat-head yelling at him to shut up.  Poor guy can’t win for losing.  Whatever that means.

Lucky for Bosco, we got to puppy-sit Sophie this weekend.  We brought the devil into his sanctuary.  Dude was not impressed.

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And all Blue Bear had to say was “HALP!”

p.s. Notice Bosco’s incredibly long hippie bangs?  He’s getting his hair did tomorrow.

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