Schooled

For the first of what I am sure will be uncountable times, I have been lectured by my daughter.  While she was being changed after her evening meal (green beans, oatmeal porridge flavored with winter squash), I noticed that a fragment of green bean had managed to lodge itself in her nostril.  I attempted to remove it, much to the Spawn's irritation (perhaps she was saving it for later).  After several unsuccessful seconds, the E-i-C picked up the Spawn and the Spawn turned, looked me in the eye, and shaking her finger in the classical method of a scolding schoolmarm, said "Vah vah vah vah!"

A minute or two of hysterical laughing was followed by somber introspection.

I have returned to work and the Spawn has begun day care.  Neither of us are sure we're happy about this situation, but the common consensus is that we have little choice.  In order to pick up the Spawn on time, I have to leave work by 4:30 pm; in order to do that, I have to arrive at work at 7:30 am; this requires me to leave the house around about 6:30 am (slightly later if I commute by bicycle instead of Muni); which in turn necessitates me waking up at 5:30 am.  This, if I may say so, is wearisome.  Oh, the sacrifices.  

Although the E-i-C can wake up as much as an hour later than I do, she has the unenviable task of dropping the Spawn off at day care.  The Spawn regards this as an act of the most base treachery.  There is much wailing and gnashing of gums.  And tooth!  She got her first tooth last Friday.  She also brought home the first of what I am sure will be uncountable upper respiratory infections, which then spread to the rest of the family.  Consequently, the E-i-C and I called in sick today.  We have been guzzling hot lemonade and Emergen-C.  Maybe it's helping.