Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Glue

Whew, it's hot! And sunny, so I slathered the baby in sunscreen before I plopped him into the sandbox. Did you know that that sunscreen has a lot of the same properties as glue? Baby W now has sand stuck all over, to the degree that if I put a handle on him I might be able to use him to refinish the floors.

Then Stella threw a bunch of "cotton" on him, the kind that drifts down from cottonwood trees, and the result is that he looks like someone tarred and feathered him. However, I can rest assured that he is well shielded from the sun now, since there is no way harmful rays can penetrate the layer of protective matter stuck to his skin. I'm not even sure I can tell which end of the baby is up.

I think I saw one of these
on my laundry.
I just dropped Stella off at preschool, and the baby is taking a nap (at least I think it's the baby -- something sandy and fluffy is taking a nap) which means I have a couple minutes to myself before the babysitter comes and I have to go to work. I surveyed the mountain of laundry, the wreck of a house, and a dishwasher full of dishes that need to be put away, and instead decided to write a blog post. Household chores can wait, and why pass up the chance to create some small work of art in a 500-word blog post? (The answer to that question, by the way, is "because I would like to be able to wear clean underwear tomorrow.)

I ride Stella over to preschool on a tagalong bicycle, which is the kind where a little kid can ride on a bicycle that is attached to the adult's bicycle. I also have a seat for Baby W on my bicycle, so we're quite a parade when we go anywhere. Three people on one bicycle is a lot, and it's somewhat precarious, but it works pretty good as long as I don't have to perform any complicated biking maneuvers. Like turning. Or stopping.
You'd need one of these to get
up my mountain of laundry,
unless you're one of the goats.

And on the topic of kids, let me say that for humanity's sake I hope that Baby W never falls into the hands of the federal government, because they would be sure to use him to inflict torture on enemy combatants, primarily in the form of sleep deprivation. I myself have been subjected to such treatment and stand ready to confess all matter of involvement in Al-Qaeda activities.

I'm actually quite impressed with myself that I'm holding down a challenging job and managing a household all while getting woken up every 90 minutes by Mr. Cutiepants. And no, that's not what I call David. (I call him Sir Cutiepants.)

Life goes on, and we are enjoying the summer. We've been visiting the beach a lot, where Walter improves his hand-eye coordination by shoving fistfulls of sand into his mouth as fast as he can. (He's still got a ways to go in the hand-brain coordination, if you know what I mean.) We've been riding our bikes around, running in the sprinkler, and having a great time. The only thing missing is clean underwear.

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