Just dropping in to write a quick line about something that happened yesterday. My husband and I were in the kitchen woefully discussing how we have all been sick this past week and hopefully how little L's lack of sleep was related to her illness and would soon be back to "normal."
L was sitting happily in her bumbo chair drooling and boogering all over the place while sucking furiously on the bumbo seat safety strap. Right then in the middle of our mess my husband starts dancing with me in the kitchen like we used to every day before my belly grew too large to move, much less dance.
We were laughing at L and her slobbering mess, commenting on how we used to dance like this all the time and we missed it and then just kept dancing away. It was adorable. He's adorable. He used to always hum the song we danced to at our wedding when we danced. But this time it sounded a bit different. I listened closely and realized that the romantic tune I was gliding around our miniature kitchen to was....
Pop Goes the Weasel.
Oh, parenthood.
love this :)
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