It was a classic scenario. I was leisurely showering and dressing when some information began leaking into my frontal cortex.......it was quiet. Tooooooo quiet. Foolishly, I argued with myself. "She's fine....there's nothing she can get into too badly that I can't clean up. Take advantage of her diversion, whatever it is, and enjoy some time to yourself to do your makeup."
Bad, BAAD Mommy. Foolish Mommy!
After a face like this, though, how could you be angry?
No, I just swallowed my disappointment at having lost the next 6 hours of my life to multiple hairwashes with dishsoap, carpet cleaner, laundry, and wiping, wiping, wiping vaseline off of EVERYTHING.....and calmly explained that vaseline was just for thermometers. Not for hands. Not for pillows, Not for hair. Not for carpet.
She understood. "Fer-Mah-mitters in your BOTTom." Nodding.
"Yes." I said. "Thermometers in your bottom." Sigh.