…honestly, I think I like cleaning up dog poop better than the elmusified food, caked and wedged into the tight and impossible to reach crevices of said highchair.  Dog vomit even…at least that is usually out in the open – on our nicest carpet, in fact.

Sorry if I grossed you out.

It’s just one of those mornings.  I already spilled an entired large container of vanilla yogurt on the kitchen floor and didn’t catch the dog OR the baby in time before they both were a creamy, sticky mess.  But at least they smelled like a glade air freshener.

Speaking of nastiness.  Sam and I were playing the ‘name sticky things’ game while he helped me clean up the yogurt debacle.  So, imagine how my appetite nose-dived when he shouted to me from the the guest bathroom,

“Mom! I know something else that’s sticky!  The toilet!”

Um, yay for me as a Holly Homemaker.

Not.

Anyway.

So, that’s a tame picture of Abby eating, by that way.  She’s usually MUCH messier.  For months, she refused all finger foods, opting to stick with her little stage 2 jars of purees.  And then some sort of ravenous teenage boy emodied my 9 month old around the first of January.  She skipped all stage 3 foods and went right to whatever we’re eating – nevermind she does not have a single tooth in her mouth.  This child can eat. 

So back to my initial point…I can clean up vomit of any kind:  my own, my children’s, the dog’s…diapers don’t scare me…I scoff at laundry, toilet and tub stains…but I do not love detailing a highchair three times a day.

I love Abby.

NOT her highchair.

*  *  *  *

Got another grosser than gross?

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