Wardrobe Malfunction

Tessie has been trying to be helpful around the house by doing small tasks. Today, she emptied the garbage for us.



I have no explanation for the pants. Tessie is normally quite good at dressing herself. Not today.

Linguist-in-Training

Tessie not only posesses a rapidly expanding vocabulary, she also has become capable of stringing together complex sentences. She uses prepositions correctly, not only to describe the relative positions of objects (on, over, below, etc.), but also relationships in time (before, after, etc.). She can follow sequential instructions, like "Put the toys away, then go wash your hands and go to the dinner table," and she can even follow such instructions unsupervised.

She is using her newfound linguistic abilities in concert with her developing memory. Earlier this evening, while out shopping with Mommy, she expressed a desire for ice cream and made a request for a specific flavor. Then, after eating her entire dinner, she made it clear that she had thus satisfied an established precondition for dessert and asked for the ice cream.

Her enhanced language skills and memory are a double-edged sword. On the one hand, we can expect her to more readily understand what we want; on the other, she is becoming more capable of demanding consistency and accountability from us. We have to watch what we say; it's becoming clear that she understands and remembers our words.

Big Girl Bed

A few weeks ago, we figured it was time Tessie moved out of her crib and into a toddler bed (same mattress, but "uncaged"). The move has gone smoothly so far (other than a few unauthorized excursions during what is supposed to be nap time) and she seems quite content in her Big Girl Bed:

Unlike most adults, she generally wakes up in a good mood:

Other days, though, she joins the rest of humanity in being not so chipper first thing in the morning...

... and suffering from bed head ...

... though eventually she perks up.

"Alligator Movies"

Tessie enjoys watching movies. Lately, she's been asking to watch "Tessie movies," videos from our collection in which she plays a prominent role, but the other night she wanted a different movie. We watched some strangers' YouTube vacation videos, but she quickly tired of that (not as quickly as I did, though) and asked for something still different. I popped a "Muppet Show" DVD into the computer and sat with her on my lap for a full half-hour as she watched, enraptured by the muppets, the music and the colors.

Tonight, she asked for "Alligator Movies." I had to explain that Kermit is a frog, not an alligator. Tomorrow night, I'm sure she'll ask for "Froggie Movies."

Archi-Tessie

Simple toys are best. Lately, Tessie's been getting a lot of play out of a set of wooden blocks. She builds towers, castles and train stations, and has a particular and surprising fondness for symmetry. She has also impressed us with her ability to balance blocks on their edges. This tower is entirely her own creation, orange corbels and all:
And while one might expect her to be upset when these towers inevitably collapse, she seems to enjoy getting to start over:

Ice Princess

Saturday night at the Undisclosed Location was "Dickens Village" night in downtown, sponsored by a local community organization. Streets were blocked off and there were horse-drawn carriage rides, photos with Santa, amazingly off-key and rhythmically-challenged carolers, and the lighting of the town Christmas tree. Tessie slept through all of that.

After dinner, though, she was wide awake for her first encounter with snow.

No, none fell here. This stuff was trucked in from points unknown and formed into two chutes down a parking ramp. This lack of authenticity did nothing to dissuade Tessie, nor did the dampness in the seat of her pants, as she repeatedly scooted down the "hill."

Then it was back to the center of town for a close-up viewing of the Christmas tree. Tessie is really starting to pick up some Christmas spirit.

Mixmaster Tessie

Evidently no longer satisfied with straight-up deliveries of songs and nursery rhymes, Tessie has started to mix things up a bit.

Mary had a black sheep, black sheep, black sheep
Mary had a black sheep
Gently down the stream.

Tessie's Dad and I burst out laughing when she came up with this one in the car, so she spent the rest of the ride coming up with other new combos and laughing hysterically at herself. "Tessie funny!"

Brand recognition

A couple of days ago, while running errands, Tessie and I stopped at a Bank of America ATM to make a few transactions. Today, as we left the grocery store, we passed a different branch of the same bank. Tessie pointed to its ATMs and announced, "We went to there yesterday buy money" (followed by "Mommy needs money").

Other kids recognize Disney, McDonald's or Nickelodeon logos. Our kid: Target, Bank of America, In-n-Out Burger, and the Red Sox. That's our girl.

Performance review

In my former life as a management consultant with a Firm that shall remain nameless, I both appreciated and dreaded the all-too-frequent performance reviews. In no job before or since have I received such a thorough and unflinchingly honest evaluation of my strengths and weaknesses -- excuse me, "development opportunities." So the "Child Skills Checklist" that Tessie's Dad and I reviewed with Tessie's pre-school* teacher at our first-ever parent-teacher interview looked awfully familiar: a list of evaluated skills, with Xs on a grid denoting observed performance levels. (Mind you, the first skill evaluated at the Firm was NOT "Shares when asked.")

(*Is it a day care? Is it a pre-school? Now that she's in the two-year-old class, it's more like the latter. You'll probably note some inconsistencies in our terminology for the place.)

I'm happy to report that Tessie's performance was rated as "Age-Appropriate" on most of the list, with weakness only in the areas of circle-drawing, and standing on one foot. More importantly, her performance in "Enjoys school" was rated as "Fully mastered."

Thorough though the evaluation was, I don't think it fully captured what Tessie is accomplishing these days. Some recent highlights:

Geography - world

Tessie's Dad and I happened to mention Germany over dinner recently. Tessie immediately piped up with "Katarina is in Germany. She has a backpack." Sure enough, when we met Katarina's dad at a birthday party, he confirmed that they had recently been to Germany. (And Katarina was indeed wearing a Hello Kitty backpack.)

Tessie also knows that her Babi and Děda live in "Candada" [sic] (and proceeds to very excitedly retrieve her ABC of Canada and Canada 123 books whenever the topic comes up).

Geography - US

Tessie has known the name of her home state for some time now. "Tessie lives in California and Mommy lives in California and Daddy lives in California." She can find California on a US map and points out its silhouette on billboards. She also knows about New Mexico thanks to my trip to Albuquerque last month ("Mommy went New Mexico"), and about New Jersey because her friend Nikolai moved there in September ("It's too far to walk").

Geography - local

Tessie is becoming very familiar with our commute, anticipating landmarks ("We go up the hill to the fire station! Fire truck lives in the fire station!"), giving directions ("Daddy's office that way!") and remembering previous day's stops ("We buy shoes there!").

Music appreciation (or not)

Tessie and I came home from the park the other day to find Tessie's Dad playing The Who's Quadrophenia at high volume. While her initial reaction was positive ("Moozic!" followed by exuberant dancing), she soon announced "I want real moozic. Tessie moozic!" (meaning her Toddler Tunes CDs). I guess Pete and Roger just can't compete with the likes of Sharon, Lois and Bram.

Language arts

At 13 months, we were thrilled when Tessie demonstrated an understanding of language by pointing to specific body parts when asked. (She particularly delighted in showing off her belly button.) Just over a year later, Tessie:

• Knows most of her alphabet. She sings the alphabet song, and will spell out loud any word she sees written in all caps. We've learned most of her classmates' names through statements like "L is for Lauren and Lucia. S is for Samuel and Sofia."
• Can spell her name. While Tessie is far from writing letters, she can pick out "TESSIE" on a computer keyboard (Notepad, 72-point font -- our teaching tool) or in fridge magnets.
• Names book parts. "This is the front cover this is the back cover this is the title page this is the spine." (This surprised and perplexed me till I stuck around for Circle Time at pre-school the other day and watched the teacher point out these features.)

Creative play

Just in the past few weeks, Tessie's imagination seems to have blossomed. Sand from the park sandbox becomes "chocolate birthday [cake]" served proudly, with the caution "It's not real food, mommy." At home, she organizes simple wooden blocks into a farm. "This [small blue block] is the little doggie and this [larger blue block] is its mommy." And any sequence of similar objects (e.g., boxes, blocks) becomes a "train."

(If you've made it this far, you're probably wondering if we have video of any of the above. Probably. And I'd love to share it. But first I have to (a) screen through the tapes to find the good bits, and (b) get Tessie's Dad to show me how to get it off the tapes and onto the computer for editing and uploading. Bear with us!)

Conversations with Tessie

Hello -- Tessie's Mom here. Long-time reader, first-time blogger. (I'll be chipping in from time to time.)

Most of my own travels with Tessie consist of our daily commute to work and daycare, respectively. But even that routine drive along the surface streets of the San Gabriel Valley takes on new meaning with a toddler in the car. Topics of "conversation" range from the mundane to the sublime...

Observations and color commentary

Is every small child fascinated by large vehicles? I never realized how many garbage trucks drove the streets every day till Tessie started pointing out each and every one of them. And thank goodness there's a fire station en route so that I can virtually guarantee at least two fire truck sightings each day!

Other exciting sights are parks and schoolyards ("Swings! Slides! I want to go swings slides.")

Then there are traffic lights: "Red light STOP! Green light GO!" and, more recently, "Red light is on top. Green light on the bottom." "Where is the green arrow? There's only a red arrow. I want to see a green arrow!" Me too, kid. Me too.

Recaps, reflections and recollections:

Tessie is beginning to give meaningful -- and possibly even accurate -- answers to questions like "What did you do today?" When the answer is "ate snack" or "played with toys" or "read books," chances are it really happened. More specific answers ("We painted with yellow paint!") are often corroborated by teachers' accounts and/or incontrovertible physical evidence (where else would that yellow paint on her clothes have come from?).

More remarkable to me is her ability to reflect on what's making her upset, or recall something that did. One day, a bird got into the day care building and it took some time for the staff to get it back out; Tessie's teacher said that this brought Tessie to tears. For the next few weeks, she would remind me, apropos of nothing, "I cried about the bird. He wants his mommy and daddy." (I'm expecting to hear a lot of "I cried about the chocolate cupcake" during this week's commutes.)

Metaphysical questions

Yes, it's begun. The dreaded "Why?" phase.

"Where are we going, mommy?"

"Home."

"Why?"

"Because it's time for dinner."

"Why?"

"Because it's dark outside."

"Why?"

"Because the earth rotates around its axis and the sun is on the other side."

"Why?"

"Umm...."

Songs and soliloquys

Sometimes I have no idea what Tessie's saying as she rambles on happily to herself. But if I listen closely, I recognize phrases from various songs. (Melody is not her strong suit, making her renditions a little Shatneresque.) She recites old standards ("Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," "Wheels on the Bus"), songs new to me ("Slippery Fish", "Buenos Dias" sung to the tune of "Frère Jacques"), and, my personal favorite, a variant of a classic:

Row, row, row your boat

Gently down the stream

Ha, ha, fooled you!

I'm a submarine.

Out of the mouths of babes

Loyal blog readers know of Tessie's fascination with trains. Apparently her experiences in Europe left quite an impression on our California girl. The first day back from Copenhagen, as I drove Tessie to day care, she had two things to say:

"Where is the train?" and

"Everybody's driving!"

Indeed. Nobody walks (or bikes, or takes the train) in L.A.

Flower Child

Here's a bit of video from our recent trip. This was taken atop the Petřín hill in Prague on the day described in this earlier post. The sneezing gag is something she picked up from her cousin Andrejka; as you'll see, Tessie thinks it's hilarious. We think it's pretty darn cute.

Par-tay!

Tessie was invited to attend a birthday party for one of her day care "classmates" who had recently turned three. It was held at a party facility in South Pasadena that we can wholeheartedly recommend. We rode the Gold Line train down to Mission station and walked a short way to the party.

Amy's Playground has all sorts of toys and fun things for the kids to do. (So does her day care, though. It's not like all the kids do there is just lift weights in the yard and create an underground economy by furtively trading juice boxes.) Tessie spent lots of time in a little play house, cooking pretend meals and serving me pretend coffee, and doing small repairs:

Before long, most of the kids arrived, and the place became pandemonium. It was fun to see Tessie interact with all the friends she tells us about over dinner. The change of venue from the day care also gave them the opportunity to try new things, and there was none of the structure of the day care day. It was two hours of pure self-directed fun.

There was a bouncer, among plenty of other ways to burn off extra energy:

Then, disaster struck. After requesting a chocolate cupcake, Tessie received a pink one. It landed on her plate, and she exploded into tears:

The server was made aware of the error, and a chocolate cupcake was delivered:

Tessie began to realize that the situation might work to her advantage. She now had a chocolate cupcake in hand, and a pink one in reserve:

So, after dispatching the chocolate cupcake, she decided that maybe pink wasn't so bad after all:

Then the trauma was forgotten, and it was time to go back to playing. Here she is sliding down a long chute at the end of a play tunnel:

To prove to us that she had a wonderful time, Tessie followed up her afternoon with a lengthy nap once we got home.

Hallowe'en!

To Tessie's great relief, Hallowe'en did eventually arrive. The anticipation built up in her so much that every evening for the last week she stated, repeatedly, "I want to go to Hallowe'en!"

Well, Hallowe'en came to her, and she made the most of it. Her day care had a costume parade and sent her home with a bag of treats, but the majority of her trick-or-treating was done closer to home, in the downtown business district of the Undisclosed Location.

Dressed as a Pumpkin Fairy, she charmed most of the local merchants out of candy as she walked through town. Here she is getting her first-ever Hallowe'en treat:

That was followed by many more, and then it was time for the costume parade, as all the local children followed behind one of the city's fire trucks on a short walk from downtown to Memorial Park. Memorial Park was the site of the costume contest, and Tessie entered in the 0-2 age group. Alas, she didn't win, but surely this was due to the preferential treatment given by the judges to those toddlers wearing homemade costumes. Tessie's was not made by an immediate relative, and we can only hope that the nimble-fingered Chinese adolescents who did create it aren't offended by the judges' blatant disregard for their efforts. (Hey, Judges: you try churning out hundreds of identical "Pumpkin Fairy" costumes in one sixteen-hour shift before discounting the effort!) From there we returned home so Tessie could make one last stop before bed. We took her across the street to our neighbors to trick-or-treat one last time. Tessie's request sounded more like "twinkle-twinkle" than "trick-or-treat," but it had the desired effect and several pieces of chocolate landed in her plastic jack-o-lantern bucket.

Pumpkin Festival

Now that we're all caught up after our European extravaganza, it's time to get back to writing about our more mundane activities near home.



One of the ways in which we in southern California become aware of the approach of autumn is through the appearance on the calendar of pumpkin-related activities. (What, you think we see leaves change color or something? Palm trees are green year-round, my friends.) Last weekend we attended the Kidspace Pumpkin Festival near the museum grounds by the Rose Bowl.



Kidspace is a children's museum, and the pumpkin festival is an annual event for children. We went last year, but this time Tessie was big enough to enjoy more of the activities. I think she even managed to find the stage act, a clown trio singing inane songs, to be condescending. She did enjoy the pumpkin patch:

She also enjoyed the bounce houses, and she's seen here atop the slide with an unknown acquaintance:

But the highlight of her day was her first-ever pony ride:

She was simply beaming atop her mount as they circled under the tent. Look at that posture, by the way. It seems we have an equestrienne in the making. This can't be good.

Homeward bound

Our last morning in Copenhagen began as the previous ones had: with the complimentary hotel breakfast. Since this was to be our last breakfast at the hotel's restaurant, we spent a little extra time enjoying the art on display.

Both inside and outside the restaurant were works by local artist Keld Moseholm at varying scales. This one was my favorite:



We had one last thing to do before leaving for the airport: buy diapers. We wanted to have enough on hand to cover our upcoming flights, and felt that the half-dozen or so might not cut it, so out I went, while Tessie's Mom did the last of the packing.

Tessie wears a size-4 diaper, and I must have visited at least half a dozen stores, from corner markets (sample dialog - Me: "I'm sorry, I don't speak Danish..." South-Asian immigrant store clerk: "That's O.K.; neither do I.") to the big Danish grocery chains REMA 1000 and Super Best. I walked for miles (really!), finding plenty of sizes 3 & 5, but not a single size 4.

My perambulations, stressful and unproductive as they were, still gave me an opportunity to wander the city and take in the sights one last time. I really learned to like Copenhagen in the short time we were there. It's a well-organized city with a vibrant core, highly efficient public transit, beautiful architecture, friendly people... there's a whole lot to like, just no size 4 diapers. That, and it's as expensive as all get-out.

I did get to see a few more unique sights while walking, like a Porsche 928 converted into a pick-up truck, and this sign over the Rådhuspladsen, which seems to be Tessie's personal motto: For diapers, I had to hit my last resort: 7-11. 18 DKk for three - that's over a buck each! Not for nothing does Copenhagen place seventh on Forbes' list of the "World's Most Expensive Cities."

Necessities acquired, I hurried back to the hotel, and we hit the streets for our short walk to the train station.


We boarded our train for the short ride to the airport, then had plenty of time to kill after checking in. Luckily, there was an O'Leary's Bar in the airport, and even more luckily, there was an open table. O'Leary's is - of all things - a Swedish chain of bars emulating Boston sports bars. Needless to say, I felt right at home amid the Red Sox, Celtics, Bruins and Patriots memorabilia lining the walls. I took Tessie to a wall of Red Sox photos, and we named all the greats: Ted Williams, Carl Yastrzemski, Carlton Fisk, Fred Lynn, and that steroid freak from a few years ago. Tessie recognized Wally the Green Monster without any prompting.
So that was it. Our time in Copenhagen was done, and we were ready to go home. We boarded our plane for the long, long, looong trip back.

Leg #9: Copenhagen to Seattle. Yikes, this is a long flight. Tessie hadn't had much opportunity to tire herself out that day, so by the time we got strapped in she was raring to go, and totally unwilling to sit still. We had three seats in a row this time, so she was between us, and we tried to take turns entertaining her. All she seemed interested in, though, was running loose in the cabin, and we couldn't allow that, of course.

We walked up and down the aisles a few times, and hung out in the galley at the rear of the plane, trying to stay out of the way of the flight crew. I noticed a sleeping bag back there just like the one Tessie had been offered on the flight out; this time, it was being used to keep bread warm. [Airline: SAS. Freebie: a rattle and a (mercifully small) stuffed tiger.]

Leg #10: Seattle to Los Angeles. Finally, the home stretch. I think by this point we were so tired we are completely unable to remember any details of the flight, other than that Tessie slept through it. [Airline: Alaska. Freebie: none.]

We landed, collected our luggage and our car, and drove home to find everything as we left it, which is, of course, the best way to end any trip.

Tessie still talks about her cousins and wants to visit them again, and she asks to see the videos from the trip almost every day. She understands that Slovakia is far away: "It's too far to walk - we have to go on an airplane!" she says, and it helps that when she asks "What [are] Andrejka and Zuzka doing?" we can honestly answer that they are probably sleeping.

Trains, Bikes and Pirate Ships

For our last day of sightseeing together, Tessie and I had a goal: to find a playground, preferably one with both swings and slides.

Armed with the tourist office map we'd picked up the day before, we boarded a train at the Hovedbanegården. After realizing we were on the right train but headed in the wrong direction, we disembarked. Oops. Fortunately, the trains come at closely spaced intervals, so we didn't have to wait for long to catch the right train, going the right way.

The playground I'd selected - based solely on its accessibility by train - was still a goodly walk away from the station, and I'd left the stroller behind again, but the morning air was cool and Tessie was excited and happy to be on an adventure. We walked through a residential neighborhood of brick apartment buildings and small shops before arriving at the playground at the corner of Gammelvagt & Sankt Pauls Gade.

There were a couple dozen children already playing when we arrived, and not nearly as many adults as I would have expected. In Copenhagen, I guess it's still considered safe to send children out to play unattended.

Much to my relief, there were swings and slides. There were also a massive sandbox, toy trucks and cars, playground balls, and, for reasons unexplained, hockey sticks. Lastly, there was this thing:

No, it's not as dangerous as it looks: it seems the weight of three children is too much for the one pedaler to move, so when fully loaded, the thing doesn't move a bit. I don't know if that's a design flaw or a design feature.

(I thought Tessie had light skin and hair. Guess I was wrong.)

Eventually, Tessie got her fill of the swings and slides, and her shoes also got their fill of sand, so off we went, detouring through the lovely Kastellet Park, to our next destination, the Danish Resistance Museum.

Yes, I was going to take Tessie to a museum of artifacts documenting the Nazi occupation of Denmark during World War II. I had a plan: I figured, since this museum is a branch of the Nationalmuseet, there were likely to be more of those spiffy free strollers to be had, so she could snack outside, then nap in the stroller while I toured the museum at my leisure.

No strollers.

Not only were no strollers provided, they weren't even allowed, so at least I didn't have to feel dumb for not bringing ours. We gave it a go anyway.

The museum is small and arranged chronologically in a square plan around a central courtyard. Past the admission desk, the entry hall sets the stage by providing historical context, then the visitor proceeds counter-clockwise around the courtyard through exhibits detailing the war years in Denmark. The museum's plan subtly reflects the course of the war: while the courtyard is always in view, the natural light becomes more scarce in the sections depicting the depths of the war. So daylight is in abundance in the sections devoted to before and after the war, but the galleries become dimmer after Danish capitulation, darkest during the period of Nazi reprisals known as "The Terror," and finally brighten again as the end of the war approaches.

Tessie was in no mood for history museums, however, so we didn't make it too far before she began to get restless. I did my best to skim the exhibits while keeping her under control, but it became clear that she just wasn't going to cooperate. Well, it was a lot to ask.

So back out into the fresh air we went, and were instantly confronted with - what else? - a pølser cart. So we got one to share and started walking south, back toward the city center.

Our route took us through the grounds of the Amalienborg Palace, the winter home of the Danish Royal Family. We arrived in time to catch the tail end of a guard change, and we sat down to watch the new guard pace her way across the forecourt of the palace a few times. (Not as stoic as the Palace Guards in London, this one liked to wink and smile at Tessie. The assault rifle she carried made me think twice about starting a conversation.)

Pølser consumed, we continued southward until we reached Sankt Annæ Plads, which seemed to be Copenhagen's embassy district. There, in front of the Swedish embassy, were swings and a slide. These had gone unmentioned by the attendant at the tourist office, and were much closer to downtown than any of the options she provided. Oh well. Tessie enjoyed them just the same, but it began to sprinkle, so we picked up our pace and headed for the subway station at Kongens Nytorv.

It was too early to call it a day, so I decided to visit one last location, and treat Tessie to another train ride. Because a multitude of train lines passed through that station, but we could only use a subset of them, I explained to Tessie that we were looking for specific trains identified by letter. The letters we needed were C, E or H, so I told her to look for the "camel," "elephant" or "horse" trains. She read the letters off the incoming trains, passing on the "apple" and "dolphin" trains, and shouting "Horsey!" when the H train pulled in.

The flaw in this plan became apparent immediately when she boarded the train to find nary a horse in sight. It seems I had created some unrealistic expectations, and tears of disappointment were narrowly avoided. (The other passengers may or may not have been amused by my horsey noises.)

Back to the brewery! This time, we'd actually go inside the new Carlsberg Visitors Center, which replaced the old brewery tour Tessie's Mom and I took nine years earlier, but first we had to get past this guy:
He's an "artist," you see, and this was a "protest." One of his associates explained that they were protesting Carlsberg's lack of generosity to struggling artists. By way of making their point, those boxes below the protester are all tagged as gifts to the causes Carslberg does support, such as the Copenhagen Zoo and Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Hmmm. Way to undermine your argument, guys. It seems they're upset not about Carlsberg's level of giving, just that it isn't directly aimed at them.

Anyway, we passed the laboratory where Carlsberg isolated its proprietary strain of yeast, with the statue of founder J. C. Jacobsen out front...

...and made it to the entrance, complete with more elephants. The gift shop missed a serious marketing opportunity, by the way: no elephants at all. I had been hoping to get Tessie a t-shirt with the symbol of the brewery on it, but had no such luck; nor were there any stuffed animals, posters or anything else in any way pachyderm-related.

What to my surprise should I see upon entering? A stroller. A free stroller; all I had to provide was a phone number to sign it out.

Let's recap:
Satellite of the Nationalmuseet = no strollers.
Brewery = complimentary stroller.
(If only I'd known... )The new visitors' center is less a brewery tour and more a glorification of market penetration and brand expansion. Timelines chart ever-increasing production numbers and document new breweries on six continents. The emphasis seems to be on quantity over quality, but there are also exhibits on the history and science of brewing, and on Carlsberg's role in the community. The mash tuns we saw on our earlier visit are still there,
as are the horses (or at least their descendants):

Tessie fell asleep in the stroller pretty quickly, since she hadn't yet had much of a nap by that time, so she missed the horses, and most of the rest of the tour, but she woke up in time for the bar:

That's my girl. Having overwhelmed their visitors with the whole global domination thing, the fine folks at Carlsberg offer samples at the end of the tour to remind you that, yes, they produce a darn tasty beer, not just a popular one.

Actually, they produce a wide variety of beers, and eight were available on tap at the bar. Only two drink tickets are included in the price of admission, so a decision needed to be made. Fortunately, the bartender was knowledgable (and spoke impeccable English), so I was able to tell him what I like and he offered suggestions. If only I could remember what they were...

Tessie was near exhaustion at this point, so she slept as I carried her back to the train station for our ride back to the hotel. When we arrived, though, the sight of Tessie's Mom revived her and she was ready to go back down to the pool, where we frolicked as a whole family for about an hour.

Soon it was dinner time, and, with that being our last night in Copenhagen, we decided to spend it at Tivoli Gardens, the amusement park and pleasure garden in the center of Copenhagen.

We dined at the same restaurant we'd been to before, but its menu had changed drastically; operating under the same name, Valhal, it was now a Viking-themed burger joint, not a Viking-themed full-service restaurant. It was also amazingly expensive. (A mediocre cheeseburger should not be ~US$20.00.)

While we ate, it began to rain. Hard. And, cleverly, we'd left our rain gear at the hotel. So we finished our meals and ran between the drops to find shelter where we could hear the bands that were still playing.

When the music stopped, the other flaw in our timing became apparent: most of the rides suitable for Tessie had already closed. We wandered the park searching for something one of us could accompany her on, finally settling on a pirate ship ride. So Tessie did get to enjoy one ride at Tivoli before we called it a night and went back to the hotel. Next time, we'll spend a whole day there.