This morning Bird got up a little rosy-cheeked, ate half a banana, was all whiny and meh-meh. Sleepy, clingy. Had a poo diaper literally the color of green finger paint. So green that I looked around for the green crayon, to make sure it was still on the outside of the Bird. (it was). No playing. No silliness. No Birdliness. Snuggled up in the rocker. And whaddaya know within a few minutes, my limp little firehose forcefully gave up an only slightly exaggerated nine or ten gallons of bananas and milk, all over everything. It was pretty scary all around.
We got in the bath, (but NO HAIR WASHING per strict orders from Bird) and she seemed to feel better, then fell right back asleep in the rocker.
Poor, poor Birdy. It's 60+ degrees here in the mid-south today, and I know she'd be pissed if she knew what kind of awesome playtime she was missing. But alas, she is curled up in her bed in only a diaper under a pile of blankets while I have panic flashes about dehydration. I am so, so ready for this to pass.
After putting Bird back down, I got in the shower proper, and managed to find the time to shave my legs. Nothing fancy, nothing above the knee (please! who do you think I am!) but I can assure you it was no small task. It was like the time we shaved Rudy Bear. It had been awhile. And now with my smooth legs I feel like a real girl again. It's the small things, folks.