For the dogs...

As I'm cooking dinner (Please overlook that statement. I probably wasn't actually cooking--because I just don't do that, but rather shuffling my feet in the kitchen trying to figure out what my now-refusing-purees-because-she'd-rather-eat-steak-10-month-old wants to eat. Moving on.), I immediately become acutely aware that things are silent in the room (that's 5 feet from my kitchen) where my daughter is playing. Then I hear VERY quick crawling knees with a giggle building in her.

Yes, you can actually hear E before she laughs. She gets very excited beforehand, and there's a definite ring in the air before she lets her giggle go. It's pretty darned cute.

Anywho, I know right where she's headed, and by the time I can peak my head into the living room, she's poised and ready: kneeling above the dog bed, she waits to make sure I'm paying attention, then throws her FACE directly into the I-have-no-idea-when-the-last-time-my-dog-had-a-bath dog bed.  She did it on purpose. And wanted me to see it.

With the advice of my mother and many other mothers in my life ringing in my head: Redirect, redirect! She doesn't understand that it's gross and wrong! Redirect! I calmly tell her, "No, no, sweet girl. Doggie's bed," and take her to her toys, "E's toys. These are yours to play with."  All while trying desperately not to gag at the fact she just exposed herself to God knows what from the dog bed, while also biting my cheeks to suppress my own giggles at the fact that my daughter has a pretty gross sense of humor (what I didn't add was that she laughed hysterically through the whole event, mouth full of dog hair and all). Thanks Mr. Kuda... Your genes are getting the blame for this one.