Live! Morning Update

This was supposed to be about basketball but Patrick just bit my finger.

Faults on both sides, since my finger was in his mouth at the time. It went in after a piece of something that was obviously a choking hazard and equally obviously not what I want a relative of mine eating. Take my word for it that nothing you find on my floor is delicious. A few moments earlier I had noticed that Patrick had an unidentified object in his pincers as he toddled the center-island kitchen loop. If I was a marginally competent maternal presence I would have leapt to my feet to investigate at once, but I was reading this article forwarded by my friend Fernanda and feeling wistful. I popped a handful of Bubble Yum Original bubble gum balls (why? what's in your desk drawer?) and brooded upon the fact that everybody knows everybody but me, so it took a moment to recognize that suddenly Patrick's paws were empty but his mouth was full. Thus this lopsided exchange:

Patrick what is in your mouth? Do you have something in your mouth? Let Mommy see what is in your mouth. Is it cat food? Is it a bug? Crayon tip? Show Mommy. Open your mouth.

Chew. Chew.

Eureka! Cat food. Well, at least his coat will be glossy. I cannot think of the last time I swabbed around inside someone else's mouth with my finger. I vividly recall the last time someone bit me. It was Patrick and he grinned just as demonically on that occasion as he is grinning right now.

Damn it! He now appears to be foaming at the mouth. Rabies? Hmmm, no. Ah, he has retrieved his sippy cup from the kitchen counter and is swishing milk into a cappuccino-worthy froth before spitting it out on the floor. Why is no one watching this kid?

Oh.