There is a member of my household-- I won't say which one-- who keeps up with friends and family through a popular social media website by reading carefully over my shoulder because he cannot (in fairness, really cannot) use it directly. He views this website (quite correctly, I don't doubt it) as a "giant smoking security hole." This household member reminded me, pointedly, that it isn't fair of me to post pictures of the kids there instead of here, because over there he can't see them (except that he can see them or we wouldn't be having this chat, right?)
That cold, cold wind you feel right now, mussing up your hair and chilling your fingers to the bone, is either coming through the giant security hole in this computer, or your own. I can't say. Try to warm yourself long enough to read the Overheard Column:
Audrey is carried away many times a day by her enthusiasms and always announcing in response to ideas posed to her that she has "a much, much gooder idea" to offer, which usually involves baking brownies. She was in spasms of joy when I told her that underneath the big scratch on her face (which I'm sorry to say her brother put there) there is new, pink skin growing. "Pink??!!" I had to backtrack to say that the skin would only be pink for a little while, lest she start ritually scarring herself to get new, Barbie-pink skin all over.
Calvin, the scratcher (and while he's at it, biter, hitter and pusher) is starting to get a rudimentary idea about what it means to apologize. After he put that big gouge in Audrey's face, he was annoyed that I was still talking about it several minutes later. "I said sorry to Audrey," he explained. "I said sorry REALLY REALLY LOUD."
Calvin, I have a much, much gooder idea. How about you stop beating up on your sister in the first place? Can we try that?