We had spaghetti for dinner last night. I give WCB a really big pile of noodles -- sans sauce -- because the majority of the noodles end up on the floor or in the pocket of her bib instead of in her mouth. After we finished dinner, I cleaned up, we played for about an hour, she had a bath, put on fresh pajamas and went to bed. When I went in to check on her a few hours later ... there was a dried spaghetti noodle stuck to her face. Where did it come from? How did it survive the bath? I've been fixated on it all day.
WCB has invented a new game called "Parade". First, we find anything that can be a musical instrument: It's usually a pie pan and a spoon, although we also have a kazoo and an old plastic water bottle filled with beads that works as a maraca. Then we march around the dining room table. Again and again. And again. And again. When Jay gets home, we have to start a brand new parade with the three of us. WCB is always Grand Marshall. Last night, I gave her the still-inflated helium mylar balloon left over from Valentine's Day so we could pretend it was Mighty Mouse and we were in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I think next time, we'll stop in the middle of the dining room and lip sync to a brand new Broadway show. Al Roker can host.