It's Her Fault

We took Violet to a get-together last night – a friend’s fiftieth birthday party. It was a relatively small affair, a dozen or so people, but still, I was impressed at how well Violet got along with everyone. She cried only once, right after we arrived. Our friend’s beagle was standing up on my leg, eager to say hello. I was holding Violet and leaned over to pet him, and he delivered a few unexpected licks to her face before darting away. The crying was brief, less than ten seconds, and then she was over it, smiling, staring, and absorbing attention from every direction.  She was especially enamored with our friends’ nine year old niece, whose animated way of talking kept Violet’s eyes on her longer than anyone I’ve seen yet. On the drive home, Violet falling asleep in the back seat, I mentioned to Linda how satisfying it was to have other people compliment us on how well behaved our daughter was at the party. Linda gently pointed out that at this stage, we have very little to do with it.

280 days old