Bubbles bubbles everywhere

Not to reward my mother's e-mail request that I only post images of Zozer on the blog (to which I respond to anyone - coughMomcough - who consistently tells me what I should and shouldn't put on the blog: get yer own damn blog!), but Zoe happened to be my subject yesterday and so here are the Photographs o' the Day.

Consider it a two-fer. A bonus, if you will. An extra. A lagniappe. BOGO. Hence the above Photographs o' the Day instead of Photograph. Aren't you lucky? (So, Mom, quityerbitchin.)

These aren't particularly artsy and are probably just more snapshot-ish than anything, but her expression is what I find riveting. When is the last time you saw an adult have that much sheer joy over something as simple as bubbles? We could all learn a lesson from my wise Zoe Grace.

What's not to love about a gun that blows bubbles?

M asked, "How lazy have we as a society become, that we can't even blow our own bubbles now?"

Yes, I firmly believe the advent of the bubble gun was the start of America's obesity crisis.

Secret Message o' The Day: Loves and kisses to Itchy Boy. And Itchy Boy's mama.