Another weekend adventure involved taking Margaret to the Boathouse in Forest Park for Sunday brunch (because where better to go in the depths of winter than a boathouse, you know?)
While there, Margaret made the acquaintance of some ducks.
She got her wires a bit crossed, though, and instead of feeding them tried to eat Leo.
Leo had taken her out to see and feed them earlier, and had absentmindedly handed her some bread to give them. The bread didn’t make it to the ducks.
When I was small, my mother used to recite a poem to me which narrated the consumption of a youngster named Albert by a lion.* I’d never thought that I would have cause to quote it in relation to my own offspring, but life doesn’t always treat you the way you expect.**
We went to the zoo yesterday.
Because the weather was so nice, don’t you know. And we saw a leopard or a cheetah or some such, and Leo and Ron thought that it would be nice if Margaret could see, but they didn’t want to take her out of her stroller because she gets quite cross when one tries to put her back in.
So they did this.
Here is what Margaret and I thought of this attempt to feed her to a large feline.
*It’s really quite funny. See?
**Margaret didn’t, in case you were worrying, get eaten by a lion.
Margaret is experimenting with eating by herself with a spoon. She’s not very good at it at all, but she’s working on it. You can see her thinking to herself, contemplating her next move.
A move which is, though not precisely right, not precisely wrong either.
She knew she had to do something differently, but she wasn’t sure what.
Can’t blame her for trying, can you?
The other morning, Margaret and her grandpa decided to play with her new blocks.
Or rather, her grandpa built towers, and Margaret knocked them over, as is the way of Margarets the world over.
He tried to get her to help
and she tried --
but she couldn’t quite conquer her urge to keep the blocks for herself.
The cake/spaghetti mix wasn’t too bad; Margaret is, for her age and station, a fairly tidy eater.
And cake gives her hair impressive, albeit sticky, body.
Still, we thought she could do with some cleaning, so we gave her a bath.
All clean, and oh-so-sleepy from her exciting birthday.
People have been nagging at me to get the pictures of the cake up, and other people have been nagging at me to put up videos of Margaret walking, and so I’ve spent all my spare time today trying to upload video of walking and have neglected the cake and I’m sorry.
Also, the walking video isn’t up. I’m trying something different as I write this.
Anyway, onward to the cake.
As I mentioned previously, Margaret was anxious to get at the cake.
She tolerated us singing happy birthday, but she was clearly a bit suspicious.
Leo and I helped her blow out the candles, and she got her mitts on the cake. She seems to be telling us that she heard that other kids got cakes this big, and she got stuck with this tiny cake.
I say to her that other kids’ mothers use cake mixes, and store-bought icing, so she should count her blessings. And homemade cake can be right up at the top of the list.
Actually, as that picture shows, she began somewhat tentatively, feeling her way into the cake. She thought the icing was a bit ooky, actually, and only changed her mind when she put it in her mouth. And here’s a far too long series of pictures. They make an awesome flip book.
After she had smashed the cake and eaten some and rubbed the rest around, she offered us some.
She then started to lick the plate.
She found this very amusing.
And then she played peek-a-boo with us using the plate.
All in all, it seemed to be a mostly pleasant experience.
