Cuffs and peaches

I am short. I don't consider it to be a big issue, but it's important that you know this about me.

Being short means that pants never fit me right. Even the "short" jeans are too long for me. I always have to roll the cuffs. I know, I could get them tailored, but I don't know how to sew and I don't really want to pay someone to do it, so I take the easy way and just cuff them.

This presents few problems. I don't think I have to wash them more often than other people -- I mean, when I go hiking and get a bunch of twigs and leaves caught in the cuffs I have to wash them (even if I've only worn them for the hike), but so does everyone wash their pants after wearing them into the woods, right?

Since becoming a mommy I have found more strange things in the cuffs of my jeans than ever before. My daughter has a way of dropping toys at the right angle and velocity so that I'll find a little Elmo finger puppet in the cuff of my pants. Or a block. Not that they stay in there for long, nor that it's a problem, but it's a funny side effect of being a mommy.

This morning, my daughter discovered the most beautiful word in a toddler's vocabulary. She's been testing the word out over the past few days, but today she really nailed it.

It's something like "fffpphhhthhhh." (I may have added an h too many, but this spelling pretty much captures it.)

What made it so beautiful today, and what caused a fit of giggles in my daughter to rival those when mommy tickles her belly with mommy's sock-covered feet, was that her mouth was full of food at the time. Cottage cheese, to be precise. You may think you know where this is going, but I assure you that there was no cottage cheese in the cuffs of my pants.

Just all over my shirt, hands, glasses, table, the high chair tray, and my daughter. It's not breakfast if she's not covered in cottage cheese, so that last one is actually pretty usual.

She innocently -- wide eyes and all -- opened her mouth when I again offered a spoonful of cottage cheese. I was thinking "now that's out of the system, she'll be hungry enough to eat some of it." Silly me. You can tell I'm a first time mom, can't you?

Again the word, but this time more like "pppfffffffthhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

The books say not to laugh at "bad" behavior. I tried not to laugh. I did not succeed.

By this time I had determined that I'd best stop feeding her as she was clearly too enthralled with her beautiful sound to want to eat. I took her out of the high chair and hosed everyone off, cleaned my glasses, changed my shirt. We went to play with something non-food-related.

Later, what do I find in the cuff of my pants? I already told you it wasn't cottage cheese. It was a piece of the peach I'd given her to go with the cottage cheese.

This begs the question: exactly how cunning is my girl? Did she distract me with the show in order to slip a peach into my pant cuff? When did she drop it off the tray? How did I not notice it? All I know is that I have never laughed as hard in my life as I've begun to laugh since having a baby.

Stinky baby. Stinky, beautiful, wonderful angel baby.

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