She has become this selectively picky eater. By "selective," I mean that she selects random times to become picky, but other times, she will pretty much snatch anything food-related out of the air with her tiny snapping jaws, before it even hits the plate. Even on the picky days (most days that begin with T or S, plus every other Monday), she is only picky certain times of the day.
I am not generally this kind of mom, hovering and wringing my hands and twitching in abject terror that my perfectly normal child will not eat her meat or carrot, or whatever. I get that it's a kid thing to reject food sometimes. The thing about Wendy is that she is like me. If she goes too long without food, she turns into this cranky doom monster of doom.
Think: Cthulu who shrieks forth from the underverse and tears faces off with her tentacles of doom. Emphasis on the shrieking. And doom.
This last piece of cheese? It was the only thing she actually agreed to eat that day. There was no way I was going to just throw it away because of some schmutz.
As I picked at carpet fuzz, I wondered if my friend Bethany (a proper homeowner, with proper homeowning accoutrement) would let me borrow her carpet steamer thingy. We are not yet proper homeowners, we do not own such items. Every time we eye up the Rug Doctor rentals at the grocery store, we turn away after a moment: "Eh, we don't even really own our rug."
I mean, we might move in a few months. We have lived here all this time. We let our infant crawl around on this rug. Why clean it now? Or, as Bethany put it, "Should I do these dishes, or just pack them? Meh." Maybe it is only the difference between a generously lent (and free ) borrow and a rental that costs 40-60 bucks a day? Yeah, probably.
Also, there is MuShu, that fuzzball kitty that we adopted last summer. Yes, we started calling him MuShu as a bad joke, and it stuck. We are bad people. He has recently discovered an interesting use for his boy parts, and is punishing us for giving him a semi-offensive joke name. As we are too broke to get him fixed at the moment, we have to suffer kitty spray and try to teach him not to do that. In the meantime....Horrors.
Before/after shots of my cheese-fuzz carpet to follow, soonish? Or can you live without that visual?
I hear the rending of time/space, and the wailing of tortured souls....I'd better go coerce Cthulu to have a snack.