All in a rush, it was then that I realized...

I am living with Al Gore.

It started out harmless enough. One day she wanted to turn off the lights. We thought it was a great. Almost convinced we had discovered it ourselves, it was a ingenious distraction that eased the long, dreaded walk to night-night.

Next, it was organic mac-n-cheese. We again deluded ourselves - by thinking she liked the bunny on the box, or the melodious rattle of uncooked macaroni - or even the Costco discount. But since then, it has become the mac-n-cheese of choice, received with squeals of delight in the bulk pasta aisle, with hand slaps and foot swings. Needless to say, it would rival the mighty Hippo puppet in baby delight, if Hippo weren't so darn huggable.

No, we hadn't realized anything was out of the ordinary until last Thursday. I was getting a glass of milk from the fridge when I turned and realized she had shut the refrigerator door. She had shut the door. It was then that I realized, as she glared at me with a look of disdain (or possible thirst). I am living with Al Gore.

What this doesn't explain, however, is her tendancy to get carsick in the Prius.