So, here are the answers to questions I know are troubling even your restful moments.
Question, The First: What, exactly, is a ‘puff’?
A puff is a thing that looks similar in construction and size to a cheerio. Only, it is made of vegetable or sweet potato. However, it is a melt in your mouth substance so as not to choke the baby. While convenient in the sense that they are not likely to murder your child, they do tend to leave a paste on everything when, say, a baby with slobbery hands mashes them up. I know, right? When would a baby ever have slobbery hands? But still, Claire loves them. I have actually seen her taunt the dogs with them. Though, that isn’t fair. Claire will occassionally grace the dogs with her scraps. And, from the dogs’ perspective, hey, it’s human food. Even if it’s baby human food. They just see a sucker in a walker. And Claire sees her subjects who dance at her command and follow her everywhere. So, win win win. Except, you know, for the vegetable paste.
Question, The Second: So, is it cool if we bother you about seeing a picture of the bruise?
Yes. It is cool. I totally ripped off Iron Man the movie just now. But, yeah. It’s cool. Here is our shame. And, I should add, Claire’s pride. Battle scars:
The picture is from three days after The Incident What With The Stairs And The Walker. The bruise still makes me nauseous. But, Claire has been since Tuesday completely unconcerned with it. I believe it represents her conquering of the stairs; territory which she now rightly claims as her own.
Danielle and I spent some time talking about black eyes the other day. You know, I can’t recall ever really having had a quality black eye. My eight grade teacher once accidentally busted my nose once in a water jug/end of sports day hijinks gone wrong. Totally my fault. And I’ve had some quality injuries, but never really a black eye. Besides, I’m a karate man. Karate man bruise on the inside. I was kicked in the head once whilst training hard enough that it made my brain reset. I didn’t even fall down. But, people said my body sagged and my head dropped while my brain rebooted. I only remember thinking, "Whoops" and then "Why’s everyone looking at me like that? I was just kicked in the head, wasn’t I?" I’m totally fine though.
Danielle, on the other hand, has actually received a black eye from answering a telephone too aggressively and once from falling into a towel bar. I remember the towel bar. We were together for that. She tried a sneak attack on me, Not-Now-Cato-You-Fool style, and fell into the towel bar. It could only have been more perfect if it had been a doorknob. "My god, how did this happen?" "Well, you see, I fell into a towel bar." Me, "No, really." Words cannot express how much I love my wife for providing me the sweet awkwardness that came with conversations like that. For real. And, yes, I would have thought less of her if she had not occassionally answered that question in a way that implicated me, though not explicitly stated, in shall we say behavior unbecoming a gentleman. It’s a moral imperative and I love her for knowing it as such.
Anyroad. I think the bruise helps everyone realize just how much of a fearless explorer and warrior Claire really is. She looks sweet. But, man, watch out. That kid is tough. To prove she’s recovering nicely, here’s a picture or two of Claire recalling her Viet Nam days on my parents’ kitchen counter:
"Stay down, stay hydrated. Charlie is in the cabinets." Which reminds me. Did I ever tell you about the time I got kicked in the whilst training in the martial arts? Great story.