Since I have not had a real (milk and cereal) bowl of cereal since the coming of Dominick, I decided it was a good time to test his lactardiness. We suspect he may be a lactard based on his fussiness in response to dairy back when I ate it, and the possible genetic defect he may have inherited from his father. I figured if I put a tad bit of milk in my cereal, I would see the response in the next day or two. This could be my in to eating ice cream again!
I sat down on the couch with my momentarily cranky baby and my bowl of cereal. It almost annoyed me that Shea was sitting there with his adorable puppy eyes, begging for a taste of my Cheerieos, because he already stole my first dinner.
As I put my back-up dinner plans into action, bringing my soon up to my mouth, Dominick had other plans. My wildy active four-month old kicked his legs and flung his arms out in merriment, sending my bowl of cereal flopping into my lap. I sat there for, no lie, about a minute as the milk laden cereal seeped through my pants. I was unsure of how to handle this. No matter what I did, this gargantuant mess was going to get bigger.
I eventually stood up, spilling the mess onto the floor. I dropped my pants and immediately threw them downstairs to be laundered. By the time I got back to the mess, pantsless, Shea was busy cleaning it up. Another victory for the Shea-Man. Ughhhh.
No comments:
Post a Comment