Stinky

There's an old saying that "fish and company stink after three days." I don't think our two week's worth of company ever really stank... but boy, we sure do. By the end, we were all wearing second-day underwear, I hadn't washed my hair in such a long time that I'm purposely not calculating, Michael was flat on his back with gross pus coming out of his eyelids, and people kept asking me if baby needed to be changed. I didn't have the heart to tell them that his clothes were still stinky from the day before but they were the last decently clean ones he had to wear. Ha ha ha! DISGUSTING!

So, after a brief flirt with Michael's cold, yesterday I started shoveling the house out. Open all the windows! Tackle the humongous stack of greasy dishes! Empty out the overflowing garbage cans! Stagger under the huge loads of laundry! Fold the mountains heaped upon the couch! Wipe off the crumbs covering every flat surface! Clean! Vacuum! Sanitize!

And now, at last, the place is looking decent again. Ahhhhhhh! I sat on an unencumbered couch today... and that, my friends, is bliss.

In the meantime, baby has been making all sorts of strides! After a week of staring curiously at his newfound hands, he's now embarked upon an exploratory adventure in USING those hands. He grabs, picks, hugs, stares. Today I had him laying on the kitchen floor on his blankie. He had his friend Giraffe and also Rabbit. For kicks, though, I brought out a new set of toys, some cool little balls that Paul and Maria gave us. I set them on the floor next to him and rolled him over on his side so he could bat at them. He started flailing at them a bit. I left the room. A few minutes later I came back to find my child scowling, yelling angrily at those darn balls because they just wouldn't behave! I picked him up and gave him Giraffe, whom he hugged close and all was well.

He's sitting on my lap right now. He's farted twice and belched once in the last thirty seconds. What a guy.

Off to the bath!