Ok, so I'm going to preface this by stating that I do not advocate brunk dlogging. I mean, ha ha, drunk blogging.
But even so.
Teeth.
Not my teeth. They are, knock on wood, fine.
M's teeth. Or, to be more specific, her little gum nubbins where teeth shall someday be.
We did not make it to bed until 5:30 AM yesterday. We slept until 8 AM. Then we got up, so as to enjoy the 89 degree weather more completely. Oh, yes. 89 degrees AND teething.
Blargh.
Double blarcgh-blargh.
So, thanks to the Fisher Price Jumperoo (I wish they made them for grownups) and some Baby Orajel, we have a temporary detente between the teeth and M. It is a fragile truce.
The wine is making me warm.
I just read my friend's blog where I am linked below Alternadad. She makes me feel so much cooler than I am.
So here's my Alternadad-type moment for the week:
...a funny thing that R said to me today when the baby had a cat hair stuck to her face:
"oh, she's got a kitty pube on her cheek..."
I said, "Eww, it's just a cat hair..."
he said, "how do you know?"
Ack.
2 comments:
:) I love you! Cat pubes... I'm with R. How would you know?
Generally, the underside of a cat is of a lighter color than the rest of the cat. Therefore, you could conceivably narrow it down to a 50-50 chance that the hair comes from the underside.
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