Pockets.

Pockets are just about the best invention known to man. I mean, I use pockets all the time - that's where I know my keys are, I stash my receipts, lists, notes, directions and numbers that need to be sorted and tossed. If my phone isn't where it SHOULD be, it's usually in my pocket. It's pretty much the only place I've ever come into unexpected money. Jean butt pockets USED to save me from carrying a bag in my pre-mommy days when debit and Visa cards was all I needed with me - before the days of wipes, diapers, and changes of clothes. (I should note here that we're pretty much PEE trained, and apparently okay to poop in AMY's toilet though no one elses as yet... com'on diaper free days!).

When One is two, pockets are a pleasant surprize discovered each morning when getting dressed. When One is two, One can't remember which pants have pockets and which don't so the first step after dressing is to search the pants for pockets. If pockets are discovered, it's a good day. It is SUPER cool to stuff One's hands into said pockets, up to the elbow at least, regardless of whether or not this means the pants are down to the knees. One likes to walk around with hands in the pockets and gets frustrated with repeated reminders not to RUN with hands in pockets.

When One is two, it is almost as much fun to discover pockets on other people's clothes and announce their good fortune with them. This morning Tink realized Daddy had a pocket in his Saturday morning uniform of t-shirt and briefs. "A POCKET!" she squealed, thrusting her hand in to see what could be kept in there... It took Steve by surprize, to say the least.

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