Yesterday we tried ‘finger foods’ for the first time. Aili is getting pretty slick at taking food from a spoon, or if I put a small piece of something into her mouth she can chew and swallow it. She’s also pretty good at her pincer grasp, so I figured we’d give it a whirl.
She caught on to the concept right away, and was fully engrossed. The problem is, she can’t figure out how to let go once she transports the tidbit to her mouth. So she’d bring the toast to her mouth, drool all over it, and somehow wad it into her palm, and then go grab another one. She ended up with a giant gummy wad of bread dough in each fist. Our ‘finger food’ thereby became ‘fist food’ and wasn’t ultimately all that successful. Don’t worry, we will perservere!
In other news, my tough, determined, health-nut husband is sick. And not just a sniffle, either. No one is really surprised that he’s caught what I had earlier this week – fever and general malaise that makes you want to curl up under a shrub and never come out. In all the time I’ve known him he’s never taken a sick day, but here he is, sprawled out all feverish and housecoat-clad on the floor of the loft. He even took a Tylenol that I offered him, that’s how bad it is. Poor Daddy.