Oh the things I do for coffee. We ordered coffee from Gevalia Kaffe because we’d get both the coffee and a new coffee pot (which we don’t need) for free. The way we figure it, we never look a gift bean in the mouth. Or something.

Well, I’ve discovered how completely spoiled I am. With my newfound love for our little local shop, VJ Coffee & Teas, I cannot drink this new Gevalia. VJ is fresh and rich and full-bodied, like a Playboy Playmate (think about the analogy and you’ll be fine). Gevalia, while I would have found it good four months ago, is gross. It’s bitter, oily and tastes stale. Plus it gives me the burps. VJ does not. In fact, VJ does not irritate my gastrointestinal condition in the least. Gevalia awakens it like Persius and the Kraken.

So, I apologize to Stan the Coffee Man at VJ for cheating on him. I did it for the coffee maker. And, I have to admit, that Gevalia did not sing Sinatra songs to me while giving me beans. Nor did they put a little extra in the bag for me, like you do. You’re a good coffee man Stan.

Yesterday, while driving the kids home from Gert’s sitter, Matilda taught her to do the most amazing thing. Truly amazing. I was so blown away by the little one’s talent at this that I immediately called mom to share the moment.

She can now say “uh-oh.” This is added to her rapidly increasing vocabulary, which includes her stunning, heartfelt rendition of “Bye-bye” or, in Gertie language “ba ba.” Apparently she only does hyphenated words. Her next will be “atmospheric re-entry.”

She toddles around the house saying “uh-oh” at any given chance. Sister says it, baby responds. Mommy says it, baby responds. Kitty says it and we call the exorcist.

She even appears to understand the context, which is quite stunning. Yesterday, while throwing her food on the floor at dinner she would exclaim “uh-oh!” as every bit of her beloved meat stick hit the floor.

The only downside, that I can see, is that now I constantly think there are accidents occurring in the house. I hear “uh-oh” from someone and I come running.

What’s really amazing is hearing this little voice come out of the little ten-month-old body. Her words are so big, but her body is so small. Everything new thing she does is so deliberate and done with such care that it consistently causes me to pause and wonder at the rate her little brain is growing. Each step she takes is taken with caution. She lifts her pudgy little leg so high with each step it looks as if she’s walking through a cow pasture trying to avoid the cow chips. And she chews on the “uh” of “uh-oh” like William Shatner trying to say “Sabotage”.

I’m concerned about her mother, however, who was so excited about this new mental development that she’s seizing Gertrude’s sponge-like ability for language by trying to teach her Elvish, from Middle-Earth. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea though. This morning when I asked Gertrude is she wanted another Ochie-Oh she said:

Neledh Gorvath 'nin Ellerain no i menel,
Odo'ni Nauhírath ne rynd gonui în,
Neder'ni Fîr Fírib beraid fíred,
Êr am Morchír ned morn-orchamm dîn
Ne Dor e-Mordor ias i-Ndúath caedar.
Er-chorf hain torthad bain, Er-chorf hain hired,
Er-chorf hain toged bain a din fuin hain nuded
Ne Dor e-Mordor ias i-Ndúath caedar.

I took that as a "no."