shplicka

I don’t have a lot to say about today. It was a pretty typical Sunday: I got up, got Blake ready for church, watched him while he slept through everything, avoided the coffee hour, ate lunch with my parents, crafted & houseworked the afternoon away, had a fight with my mother when dinner wasn’t ready, and put Blake to sleep late (although to be fair, the Boy did a great deal of the childcare in the latter part of the day as I was in charge of the early afternoon.)

There will be better stories this coming week. With Scherezade in town, my sense of style demands no less. Anyway, 2 short observations about Blake’s developing sense of humour.

1. After lunch, Blake asked to nurse. As we settled into an easy chair, I nuzzled his face, sniffing loudly to make him giggle.

   Me: You smell like pasta!
   Blake: You smell like pasta!
   M: What do I smell like?
   B: You smell like...glasses!
   M: I smell like glasses?
   B: You smell like eyebrow!

   There you have it: Eyebrow!--the new scent from Further adventures of Rocketmom.

2. He also became enamoured of the non-word “Shplicka” this weekend, the repetition of which he found endlessly hilarious. It is a pretty funny word, especially when the toddler in your life goes into gales of giggles every time anyone says it.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 8/14/2005 08:58:00 p.m.