Two?

Can it be? We've reached a milestone at our house: the "baby" has reached the age of two, is still "the baby", and there's no bun in the oven (or in the near future, or in my wildest dreams) to speak of. I keep wondering if you have to have another baby to stop calling the youngest the "baby". Because we can't help ourselves - we all call her that with loving affection. It helps that her mop of hair resembles that of a typical one-year-old and that she shows no inclination to use the potty. And yet, she's talking in complete sentences, putting on her own shoes, and resistant to her big sisters' attempts to take care of her.
Ah, Baby Eve. We love you and wish you would stay our baby forever and ever. And ever. Happy second birthday.

The cake.


The child. Er, I mean, the baby.