Cold Comfort

Almost a week ago, Zoe reached one of the milestones that parents don’t brag about on “Is My Baby Normal?” websites: she swallowed a foreign object!  (If you are worried, you can soothe yourself at that same website.)  We are following the doctor’s orders, which are frustrating but simple: wait for the die to pass.  (That is what she swallowed: not your apparently standard marble or coin, but one of a set of dice she found in Mike’s office.)

So, when she complained about her diaper at day care, they assumed she was finally getting ready to pass that die.  It turned out her diaper carried an impressive load of sand, dirt, and an actual twig, requiring a pre-supper bath.  Zoe was not on board with this plan, so she screamed and cried the whole time.  Luckily, Mike is the designated bath giver, and he is Very Tough.

At the end of the terrible ordeal, I revealed some special knowledge:

Me: “Do you know what you get to do when you have a bath before supper?”

Zoe: “Waaaaah!  Waaaaah!  Waaaaah! ”

Me: “You get to put on your pajamas and eat cookies before supper!”

Zoe: “Cookies!”

And so here she is, snuggled in her jammies and enjoying a cold sippy of milk, a bowl of (two) Fig Newtons, and an episode of Yo Gabba Gabba.  As soon as that woman with the camera stops blocking the TV, all will be right with the world.

P.S. Can you tell that I have discovered the joy of links?  Blogging is fun!