Cheesy Toes

Alekzander has become quite the little chatterbox.  His little voice is the sweetest thing.  His repertoire of mama.nanana.dadas are strung together with purpose and inflection.  I wish I knew what he was talking about!  He probably is telling me that I'm a little crazy.  Or maybe a lot of silly!

We took a big adventure to the grocery store.  So big that I came prepared with two snacks and a purse full of toys!  While we were walking around (and around and around ... we visited the baking aisle at least four times), we chatted.  About food that looked good.  Recipes "we" wanted to try.  We discussed unit prices.  Remembered that we had no room in the freezer.  Rationalized buying six cans of pumpkin.  You know, normal grocery store talk.  Until we stopped and waited in line to check out.  I had to clean both of our hands with antibacterial wipes, open our yet-to-be purchased package of string cheese, and break it into tiny pieces to ward off a slightly frustrated, overtired fuss.  Alekzander thinks he is so BIG and wanted to feed himself the cheese ... whole from the package.  The result was a slobbery, gummy mess and a happy baby.  Part of the gummy mess made its way down to my flip-flopped feet, and I exclaimed (probably a little too loudly), "Ew yuck, Alekzander, I have cheese between my toes!"  To which Alekzander replied with a string of syllables and a big smile!