* * * * * _September 14, 1983_ He raved all morning and tromped around. I said, Shut up or I'll leave and you'll have to eat capsules. He said, I could eat dog food! Then he wanted to see my diary. I said, No. But he yanked out all the drawers and found it. I took the baby and went to Momma's. It was suppertime when I came home. He was on the couch with Sup and Susta and the puppies. He didn't act mad, just nasty-nice. So you came home, he said. I never realized how limited you were, Listie. Your diary's shown me a lot. Can you at least find homes for the puppies? I said, I guess. I put the baby down. He hadn't thrown anything or burned my diary. He said, Good, then. I've fixed supper. He had hamburger, frozen pie and hot chocolate. Some of it tasted bad. I didn't say anything. * * * * * _September 15, 1983_ I asked Bimmie, Should I quit my diary? He said, Yes. Then, No, keep on. I asked, was he doing another experiment? He said, Not yet. I said, Bim better not start talking early. He said, You don't think I'd experiment with my own child? I didn't know. He said, Bim might be smart anyway. I said, He might be, he's your son. It was a good compliment. * * * * * _September 17, 1983_ Bimmie wants to learn cooking. He said, You have to work hard, hanging diapers. It will help if I can cook. I'll teach him hot chocolate first. His fixing tastes _awful_. * * * * * _October 5, 1983_ I have little to report. Bimford, Jr. is flourishing. The puppies are adorable. Susta and Sup tend them jointly. Bimmie has no new project. He has thrown all his energies into cooking. He does quite well, except for hot chocolate, which still tastes of chemicals. I never, until yesterday, realized the intellectual and sensual joy to be derived from delving into Greek drama. * * * * * _November 9, 1983_ Bimford, Jr. is six months old today. Since I gave up the last puppy, the house seems barnlike in its emptiness. I mentioned the fact to Bimford. His glance was speculative. "I have some money saved. Want a tridiversion wall?" I was horrified. "Whatever for?" He shrugged. "Maybe you'd like to go to the library. Get something to read." I considered. "Perhaps I will," I said. "There isn't much for me to do, hang diapers and push buttons. Automation has almost completely eliminated the housewife's traditional chores." I left Bimford, Jr. with Mother and walked to the library. I asked the librarian to show me about. "What are you interested in?" she inquired. "I don't know," I replied. "Do you have any good recent works on chemistry or perhaps nuclear physics?" She raised her eyebrows but conducted me to the proper shelf. After finding several interesting volumes, I also checked out a volume on cookery for Bimford. His hot chocolate doesn't improve, despite nightly practice.