Once again, while the Mr and I were discussing the Russian aggression in Ukraine and the potential implications for the neighboring NATO countries, a small but mighty voice chimed in, "TATO!" It might not be possible to fully impart just how tickled we are that she hears potato, tomato, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization as the same word, and proudly repeats it when spoken in her presence.
Today's visit with the toddler was all kinds of fun. She went on a walk in the park with her grandpa, and enjoyed herself right up until grabbing snow made her hands cold. She came home complaining, and immediately found me in the shower and started asking to get into the warm water. She had to be carried out of the room, disappointed and speaking her outrage, so that I could finish up and dress. Her latest favorite game appears to be bringing some toys to my lap, and then trying to climb over the arm of my recliner. I pick her up every time, and she hangs out with me for a few minutes, and then hops down to find a new activity. She repeats this over and over. I am not looking forward to the three weeks after surgery when I'm not allowed to lift anything heavier than Athena (who weighs about six pounds under all that floof). Val is not going to like being told grandma can't lift her right now.
After the grandbaby went home, the Mr went to the climbing gym, and I told him I'd have leftovers waiting for him. I sliced up some tri-tip we made last week, and set it on a low heat to warm up. Then I sat down. The room started to smell funny, not quite like the marinade I had used on the beef. I turned and looked over my shoulder. The cook top was smoking. One of the cats (almost definitely Alfred) had been on the counter, and licked the plastic cutting board hard enough to push it onto the burner, moving the pan over a few inches. It was actively melting when I found it. I am so lucky I had the burner on low. It probably would have caught the whole kitchen on fire in that amount of time if it had been on high.
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