Tangled or Why My Daughter Wants a Horse and a Chameleon.

Today was the last day of my glorious eleven day winter break. To finish with a bang The Wife suggested we grab The Peanut, throw her in the car, drive down to our local multiplex and pay a small fortune to take in a matinée. I thought the idea sounded just spiffy and I told her so (yes, I used the word spiffy and yes, I did get smacked for it).

The Peanut got a digital camera from Jolly Old Saint Nick last week and ever since has slowly been gathering a photographic record of every corner of our house from every conceivable angle. 'Studies in Dust Bunnies' I call it. When I tracked her down she had her new LaLa Loopsie doll suspended in midair over the open toilet bowl, attempting to snap a shot without getting her fingers in the frame. It would have made, I am sure, quite a surreal photograph, the interpretation of which would have been up for some serious debate. As much as I hated to interrupt my own little Andy Warhol, I called her out of the bathroom and asked her what movie she wanted to go see. The answer was as loud as it was immediate.

"TANGLED!"