In Which We Do Not Make Fish Prints

Today we were going to do fish prints, partially because they would be in keeping with our ocean theme for the week and also partially because I have no doubt much hilarity would occur doing fish prints, and it would give me an easy topic to blog about.  I mean, even saying the phrase "fish prints" is funny.  Try it.  Fishprintsfishprintsfishprints.

Um, yeah.

Anyway, we didn't do fish prints because I woke up this morning feeling relatively lousy, and I didn't feel like going to the grocery store.  Actually, what I did was I dragged myself out of bed when it was obvious that Connor wasn't going to sleep any longer, got him up, dragged us both into the living room where I fed him breakfast, and then plopped him down on the bed next to Jeremy, who had the day off from work due to the holiday and was trying to sleep in, and announced that I was not feeling good and needed to go back to sleep now.  And Jeremy, who has the patience of a saint or there's no way he would still be married to me, got up, let me crawl back into bed, and took Connor into the other room without a single complaint.  And then he let me sleep until 12:30 in the afternoon. 

Did I mention how completely awesome my husband is?

So after I got up for the second time I was feeling much better, but I still didn't want to go to the grocery store.  Instead I just set Connor up with the finger paints (yes, that is saran wrap around his g-tube) and let him go to town, by which I mean that I mashed his fingers in the paint and he then reacted like I was trying to kill him and wiped all the paint off on my shirt, or if that wasn't available, his chest or hair.  He didn't really have a good time, but he probably had a better time than if I'd been making him touch a fish instead, so that was okay.

There's always tomorrow.

~Jess