There's no Handlin' like a Monkey-Handlin'

I got word from Oklahoma that Birdie rolled over for the first time! We've hit a milestone, people! :)

I also found out that Beatle got man-handled by a monkey at a funky little zoo in Oklahoma that she frequents when she visits grandparents. Ok, maybe man-handled is a slight exaggeration but still, the monkey left marks! We could have filed a police report if this monkey was a human. I still want to hear her tell the story; I'm sure her expressions are priceless. She told my mom that they were petting small monkeys and then she turned around to leave when she felt someone grab and squeeze her arm. Beatle thought it was another kid and said, "What tha??" When she turned around, the monkey had just let go. Mom says there's a little primate hand impression on Beatle's arm! Haha! This is crazy!

Beatle's very into her Indian heritage right now. (Her great, great grandmother was full-blooded Creek Indian. Beatle's 1/16th. Yeah.) If she talks to you for a minute, you'll know she's an Indian (and sometimes she throws in that she's lived in India to spice it up). Last night, she was very persistent in the fact that Indians eat carrots in their cereal. Mom gave in and chopped up baby carrots in her Fruity Pebbles. All gone. I'm telling you, the girl will eat anything. :)

Last thing, Beatle got a cut on her finger and Mom was going to doctor it with Neosporin. Beatle told mom that she had a friend named Sporin. Mom thought that Beatle was telling a "whopper" until I realized that she does have a cousin/friend named Orin. But of course, he will never be Orin to us again...oh, Sporin, what a good friend you are.