Jan. 2, 2011: Pinky f#%kin' swear

Stacy might have pink eye. Try not to be jealous, everyone. Time will tell if Gavin and I get it or not. Last time she had pink eye she had it for, like, six months (this is a slight exaggeration, but it felt like she had it forever. She missed so much work that it ended up cutting into the accrued sick days she'd planned to use for her maternity leave). I never got it. But this time there's a kid in the mix. A kid who loves to play "point to the parts of the face," which involves him answering a question like, "Where's your eye?" by pointing to (read: poking) his own eye. This is often followed with, "Where's Mommy's eye?" (poke) and "Where's Mama D's eye?" (poke). I woke up to some version of this game today, though the only part I remember is him raking me across the cheek with his fingernails and sticking some of his fingers in my mouth. I think the question was, "Where are Mama D's teeth?" In any case, my Great Big Hope is that I don't get pink eye and that Gavin doesn't get pink eye.

In other news, Gavin and I went to Kohls (a store I had no use or love for until I had a kid) and Target to return stuff and to get out of Stacy's hair so she could get stuff done for school. It was super cold today and Gavin wasn't wearing mittens and I felt terrible about that even though it is highly unlikely he would have kept them on his hands. On the way home I heard him playing with the Velcro of his boots. When we got home I went to get him out of the car and lo and behold he'd taken off both of his boots and his socks. He was quite a sight all bundled up from head to, well, leg. He used to do that all of the time as a baby. No matter where we went he'd have his socks and shoes off before we arrived. He still prefers to be barefoot, though I really hope that we can convince him that Winter is not the best season for naked feet.

Yesterday we went to see Stacy's dad and grandma (a.k.a. Grandpa Gary and Great Grandma Mary) up north. Gary gave Gavin a rooster clock that crows every hour on the hour or when you push a little button on the back. Gavin is quite enamored with this clock and its rooster sounds, though I've just taken the batteries out for the second time because even though the clock is supposed to be sensitive to light and therefore only work during the day, its concept of day is apparently quite different from ours. And since Gavin has been in bed for hours, there is no one to delight with cock-a-doodle-dooing at this hour.

Okay everybody, let's pray that no one has pink eye tomorrow.