You Know You've Had a Bad Day When...

You're trying to type your blog post with a splinted finger due to sliced-on-a-can-of-refried-beans finger. While it was definitely stitches-worthy, I opted for the slightly barbaric tongue-depressor splint to assure the best possible heal. A trip to Urgent Care was not on my agenda tonight (unlike the other times when it is oh-so-convenient). For the record, it was not a clumsy moment. My wooden spoon completely busted in half while trying to scrape out the contents, thus slamming my finger into the opened lid.

Cole is doing better with his cold, we think. The allergic reaction (this time) was probably due to my sister's cat. That, plus his cold and the housefull of people (stirring up dander) just was a recipe for this to happen. Though he wasn't tested for cat allergies, they do run in our family.

Paige is great - out-ate me at tacos tonight.

Will. Oh, that Will. He is into putting on sleeper-style pjs that we have (which look slightly ridiculous on a boy of his size). When I asked him why he is wearing them so often, he proceeded to demonstrate how going potty was just as easy as a zip-down and arch forward. Point taken.