A friend came over this weekend to make cupcakes with The Dormouse and The Caterpillar and let me just say that if this person had been around back when The Caterpillar was having her language issues, I don't think we'd have worried one jot or tittle because once she walked through the door, The Caterpillar began to talk to her non-stop, describing every book, television show, and party she'd ever experienced as well as relating a fair amount of intimate knowledge about the Scooby-Doo franchise. I honestly had to listen really close be sure she took a breath occasionally. It reminded me of the days when The Dormouse was in her non-stop talking phases (from about age one until.... well, I'll let you know when it ends) and I would sigh exasperatedly and ask, "Could you just please SHUT UP FOR FIVE MINUTES??" Only I would pronounce it, "That's great, honey."

While The Dormouse has never had an unexpressed thought, The Caterpillar prefers to think about what she wants to say first... and then communicate with others in high-pitched whines and tantrums or simply to scream bloody murder at inanimate objects. I'm still not certain which circle of hell is smaller. So it was actually kind of cool to listen in from the other room and hear her telling her newest Favorite Person all the intimate details of her life without a single crying fit.

They made cupcakes and then decorated them with all the accouterments one might need to make Valentines' Day treats... that is if one is a hummingbird and can only subsist on sugar.

We call this one the Times Square Cupcake:


The cupcake equivalent of the Everything Bagel:


The Poisoned Apple cupcake:


The Ah, This Is The Life cupcake:


As The Caterpillar says, "Happy Valiumtimes Day!"

(I could really use some Valiumtimes right about now.)