Okay, I have raised what must be the most skittish kid on the planet. She is afraid of the blender. Reasonable. She has yet to discover the magic of frozen drinks that make the blender the appliance touched by goodness. She clings to me like a monkey when the vacuum is running. Okay. It's loud and sucks things up. That's totally reasonable. She jumps and whimpers when I rip off a piece of aluminum foil. Sounds sort of like a sharp clap of thunder I suppose. Okay, I'll give her that one, too. But bubbles? COME ON!!!!! I introduced her to bubbles this morning and she whimpered like a beaten puppy and crawled into my space. Maybe it was the timing. She's been wicked clingy all week. Or maybe it's just her nature. But, this is a kid who has no problem repelling off my lap head first. Or screeching at the top of her lungs in the middle of Stop and Shop just 'cause. She was a little more amenable to the bubbles once she saw she had the ability to destroy them. Because that's her favorite pastime-search and destroy. But seriously, who the heck is afraid of bubbles? Where have I gone wrong? We need to get out more. If I get the job I am interviewing for on Friday, she's off to daycare. That might just send her 'round the bend on overload. Poor baby.