Giraffe On The Loose

Hey y'all -

On our second morning in Spokane, Peg and Tex laid up in their hotel room on the verge of death, suffering from a cocktail of congestion, insomnia, headache, fatigue and Chuck E's Revenge; only 3 out of 5 of those symptoms were caused by my children.

While they faked an illness so they could watch TV in peace rested, your dad and I took you to the Mobius Children's Museum. It's a lovely facility that obviously doesn't adhere to any sort of fire code, because there were umpteen hundred children crammed into one underground play area. It was a wild sea of miniature screeching humanity. I made my way through the discovery areas, trying not to step on any of the ricocheting children. "This," I thought, "must be what it feels like to be Godzilla."

We spent most of our time in the baby play area, not because Hagen was the birthday boy and we were there to make him happy, but because that was the least populated corner of the museum and gave us the smallest chance of being trampled.

I noticed that there was a coat rack in the far corner of the baby area where they'd hung some dress-up clothes and costumes. There was a giraffe outfit in Laney's size, so I pulled it out and helped Laney into it. Your dad thanked me then for expanding your world view by introducing you to new activities and opportunities for experiential play. I forget exactly what he said, but it was something like: "When she gets head lice, it's on you."

Laney played with every baby in the baby area, helping them find toys, climb the treehouse, etc.

The only baby who wasn't impressed was Hagen, who - like his dad - just wanted to get the heck out of there. 

Off to check Laney for creepy-crawlies...

Love,

Mom