We've had a tiring week. Edwin, Ella, and I have been fighting a stomach bug, because teething simply wasn't making Ella miserable enough. There have been lots and lots of diapers meet their doom in our humble abode this week. We've had lots of those diapers. By those diapers, I mean the ones that leave in their wake a path of destruction that requires forty-five minutes, a bath, a load of laundry, and a trip to the garbage can outside in order to rectify, and even then you are haunted by the sights and smells of the past.
DeLaynie has been left unaffected, as normal. I've said that she could lick a petrie dish and stay healthy, and that's about true. I think that it has something to do with the fact that we let her scoot just about anywhere. The people at Lifeway in Elizabethtown knew her pretty well. Edwin would let her get down and scoot around the circular path on the carpeted floor. I didn't go with him most of the time, hoping that the employees wouldn't think that I condoned such behavior. I know that has nothing to do with her healthy state, actually, but I'd really like to take credit for it. Oh well! If I don't want to be blamed for the faults that have nothing to do with the quality of parenting she receives, I better not take credit for the positive qualities that have nothing to do with the parenting she receives.
We're all feeling better, and I had an actual meal for lunch today (my favorite, Southwest Grilled Chicken Salad from McDonald's!). I have high hopes for that meal, like digestion. Wish me luck!
On Discovering That I’m a Prodigy.
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