You can't just have mango. It must be Mango-Tango when you live with us.
This just in...another trophy for Mother of the Year over here. I cleaned under our beds this morning. In the process of doing so I found the letter q part of our alphabet puzzle. Locating this has sent me into fits, you can't say the animal alphabet without q for quail! As I was dusting it off, and smiling with Virgo like satisfaction, Thank you MOM, I noticed Thomas was smacking his lips.
"What do you have in your mouth?"
Thomas crunches, swallows, and blinks inquisitively.
"No, Thomas, really, what are you eating?"
Silence. I look for crumbs around his mouth and teeth and find light orange. Hmmmm. What could he have found under our bed that color? I desperately look around for possible old snack plates we've overlooked in the last day or so. Nothing. I realize the futility of my line of questioning. Then...
"A Fishy, Mommy."
I ask in a very high pitched yet quiet and nice tone, "Where did you find the fishy?"
"On the bed."
Yuck, oh yuck, I think, an old fish cracker not on the bed under it, prepositions kid. When was the last time we ate fish crackers near the bed? Oh no, yuck, just yuck. How many dust bunnies did I just sweep up? Ew. Then he moves across the room and picks up a brand new bag of goldfish crackers, courtesy of his Nana, left by the computer on a bed we use as a desk, by an insanely sleep deprived and hungry pregnant woman living in our flat.
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