3:00am. Our bed, complete with a Linus in the middle of it.
Dan: My shirt is wet. Either Linus drooled, or it's pee.And then not another word was spoken.
A FEW NIGHTS BEFORE THAT
4:32am. In the dark, returning from Linus's room after feeding him.
And then not another word was spoken.
Me: Oh, gross. I just stepped in something squishy. I think maybe Tuffy pooped.
Dan, as I climbed back under the covers: Don't drag it into the bed!
Me: It's okay. It was just the side of my foot.
All of this is to say, that when you become a parent--or this has been my experience, anyway--your tolerance for things that may or may not be vile substances infiltrating your space increases drastically. You also wash your sheets a lot more.
After a thorough investigation, it was determined that due to its odorless nature, the wetness on Dan's shirt was either drool or Linus's head sweat.
For those of you keeping score at home, Tuffy did poop on our floor. He never does that, so I think it was an homage to Pippy, and therefore sort of sweet.
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1 comments:
Maybe Linus was worrying so much about global warming that he was lying there, awake, and sweating. I'm pretty sure, according to the adorable look of concentration (brows furrowed) we often see on this site, that he's doing quantum physics in that little head of his. Or masterminding an explanation for dark matter.
It's a sweaty job, solving all the world's problems.
ps - love the new layout! Fun!
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