Chloe’s mouth is like the Energizer Bunny on steroids.  Chloe doesn’t shut up.  She just told me that Fergie’s (of the Black Eyed Peas) real name is Stacy Ferguson and that her nickname as a kid was Fergie.  She then offered to scratch my back if I would buy her a song.  I am trying to watch “American Idol,” but she keeps talking and talking and talking.

She’s now reading an article about Justin Bieber and making fun of a zit he has on his face.  A little while ago, she was wondering if she and her classmates were going to be subjected to the puberty talk in school this year (hell, I have no idea) and then she started asking questions about nipples.  All of which would be amusing if her mouth wasn’t moving a mile a minute.  Literally.  If words were miles, she’d have circled the globe several times over by now.

I’m looking forward to our trip to France because she won’t be able to talk nearly as much or as fast in French.  We might actually be able to enjoy some quiet from time to time while we’re there.  She’s going to be really stymied when she spends the night at her aunt’s.  Although her aunt speaks a little bit of English, the rest of the family doesn’t.  I should plant a tape recorder somewhere on Chloe’s person for that visit, just to be able to play the hours of ensuing silence back to her.  I think it’ll render her speechless, at least for a minute or two.