a futile battle

a futile battle

Sometimes, as a mom, I can’t really understand what’s happening. For instance, today I spent half an hour washing, soaping and sterilizing Ri’s bottles and cutlery. When I was done, I plonked myself on the sofa. It was really quiet, which in toddler land generally means danger; so I peeked to see what she was up to. Her back was to me and I could see her fiddling with her toys, her hand periodically moving to her mouth. I was tired and figured – hey whatever’s keeping her busy, let her be at it. Sweet child that she is, after a while she got up and came to me. (You see the one good habit I’ve taught her is to share). She promptly shoved some crumbs into my mouth. I tasted it. Lays chips. Salted. I remember eating them three days ago.

So while I was busy dunking things in boiling water to ensure the killing of germs and whatnot, precious Ri had been excavating stale bits of chips lodged God alone knows where and eating them. Excellent

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