If you will it, it is no dream...

This baby IS the walrus...

She crawls...





She pulls...



She gnaws...



She communes with nature...



She composes ambient-experimental music...



She wears hats...



Goo goo g'joob.

It's all a Front...

I sometimes worry that Carissa reads Ayn Rand when we're not looking. She's ridiculously good at getting her way. Rule #1: Be extremely cute (as illustrated below). Rule #2: If Rule #1 fails, scream like a hellbeast.






But soon, Rules 1-2 will be obsolete. She practically doesn't even need us anymore:




I really wish my toes were this interesting to me.




Ok, maybe it's not ALL for show.