There, now, those of you that are left can congratulate yourselves on your tenacity.
Finished? Good.
Anyway, this post is more about pease porridge than Billy Wilder films. It's not porridge per se, but yesterday we introduced M to peas (it's all about expanding her horizons, you know).
It was moderately successful. When I stuck the spoon into her mouth, and she got peas (unsweetened, boiled, pureed peas) instead of the slightly sweet rice cereal she's learned to expect from her spoon experiences, she gave me a look. And then proceeded to make a very screwed up grimacing sort of face and do things with her tongue.
Doesn't she look like someone has betrayed her trust?
At no point, however, did she spit the peas out.
She is, in fact, a very tidy eater, who got on board with the peas idea very quickly, and seems to be indicating that she would appreciate it if I would put the camera down and get back to my job, which is conveying peas to her mouth.
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