When I was little, I had an orange stuffed animal that I loved. LOVED. I was kind of old for that, though (almost 8). Then my sister arrived. She puked on it. Little teeny baby puke, but still. I was so over that toy immediately.
Flash forward to tonight. Charles was holding Iain up, letting him look down on Boris and Juno, and getting in a little neck-strengthening time in the process. I watched, and thought "Wouldn't it be funny if he puked right on them?"
And then...
The good news, though, is that I totally still love Juno. We just wiped her off and it's all good. You can't really do that with a stuffed animal.
3 comments:
Dude, our young lady lives for the opportunity to hold her feet. And to S-T-A-R-E at them. For thirty minutes at a time. In a yoga-pose looking thing, folded in half.
She's also just started holding her, um...She...Uh...
Exploration!
Dude,
In Baby 411 they list that as "exploring pleasure zones" in the index. As opposed to, say...masturbation.
Your comment, plus video, suggests that in the next month Iain will learn to love his own feet. That would be nice, since he needs something to keep him busy. Like a hobby.
Dude,
Exploring pleasure zones is an excellent hobby.
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