Duke eats better if it’s off my spoon, and my plate, and if he’s in my lap. If I weren’t working so hard to fatten that baby up you can bet we’d be working on meal time boundaries. Sitting in his own chair, eating off his own spoon and so on but when you weigh just over 16 lbs every bite counts so I hold him and I let him eat oatmeal off my spoon for breakfast.
I am working on a wedding gown. Adding lacey elbow sleeves to a previously strapless gown. Fittings mostly consist of me shifting pining and tweaking the neckline, making sure things lie close to the body, nothing gaping, nothing bunching. This translates to a lot of face to face close proximity time with the bride. I’ll bet her fiance would be jealous if he knew.
Yesterday morning at a stop light I rested the side of my head in my hand and discovered a crusty flaky something in the curve of my ear. Closer examination revealed it to be oatmeal.
It had me worried for a second though, unidentified dry flaky oatmeal in such proximity to the ear canal would likely give anyone pause. Then I thought of the dress fitting I conducted less than an hour earlier, all the time I spent with my ear in front of that girl’s face.
I wonder if she noticed.
I wonder if she worried it was catching.
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