Toast, Unexpected

Last night, at bath time, J grabbed a piece of toast I happened to be eating and started munching on it himself... in the bath. This unexpected turn of events was fascinating and very funny. Later, I duly cleaned the soggy remnants from the plughole. Earlier today...

W: He's becoming a lot less destructive, don't you think?
Me: Well, he's not flinging DVDs around, if that's what you mean?
W: Yes, he's actually becoming gentler with objects.
Me: True. But I wonder if he might be diverting his attentions to other pursuits?
W: You're talking about an 11-month-old child here.
Me: Exactly, his brain is developing in many different directions all at once. Who knows what he might be into next?

A minute later, W calls from the bathroom.

W: There's toast in the shower.
Me: Told you.
W: That doesn't mean anything. It just means that there's toast in my shower.

Later, this evening, as W is tidying toys away.

W: There's toast in the toy box.
Me: Now do you see a pattern?
W: Hmm...

Daddy-led Weaning

Every meal time is, quite frankly, a splatterfest. It comes with the territory of baby-led weaning. You join us as W arrives home. I am on my hands and knees, wiping away a mixture of drool and toast from the highchair. Perhaps I should call it 'doast'.*

W: Did he eat much?
Me: Pretty good - three pieces of cheese on toast and at least two more have been sucked to within an inch of their lives.
W: And a few more on the floor.
Me: There were more...
W: But...
Me: I ate them.

W smiles

Me: (defensively) It was clean and... they were only there a short time - I followed the five-second rule.**
W: Heh!
Me: Well, some get thrown down before he's touched them.
W: Fair enough.
Me: And I don't eat them if they've been sucked.
W: You might do one day. Friends tell me it's a true sign of parenthood.
Me: Oh, how our standards change.
W: You'll be eating the sucked bits in no time.
Me: And then I suppose I'll only be ruling out the regurgitated bits.
W: Even then...
Me: No! No way.

You have to draw a line somewhere. 

Notes  
*Perhaps I shouldn't.
** For more on this 'rule' see the New York Times, Wikipedia and Mythbusters. Granny and Nanny should not read these links; here are some fluffy kittens instead.