Once again, it's Monday morning, and thanks to MckMama, we can all purge ourselves from the memories of things we didn't do this week. I give you my weekly offering:
*I did not repeatedly smell Wiggle Man's rear and exclaim "OOOOOH...SMELLY!" simply because it sent him into a fit of belly laughs. Every time. I certainly wouldn't subject myself to that kind of odourous torture for a laugh.
*I do not put Wiggle Man on display every time company comes over, hoping he'll demonstrate for our guests his vast knowledge of animal sounds and body parts. (For although he's not actually speaking yet, he can mimick--on cue--the sounds of a handful of animals, and show you his nose. And ears. And tongue. You get the point.) But I would never use my child like a trained monkey. Never.
*I do not tell Wiggle Man that my work-out time (thank you, Tony Horton and your magical 10 minutes) is actually dancing time, in the hopes that he'll think it's fun and not whine the entire time.
*I did not try to explain to Wiggle Man that Mommy took away his ball because sometimes we do things that have consequences. I mean, who uses a 12-letter word with a child whose current vocabulary consists of "woof", "quack", and a handful of other animal/machine sounds?
*I did not splurge on a fresh, Amish-made donut this weekend. And certainly not on the same day I got some rich, creamy chocolate milk from my local "micro-moo-ery." (Their clever wordplay, not mine. Thank you, Trickling Springs.) And while I'm on the food portion of my NM!M, there was not a whole lotta pasta involved from our favourite Italian place. And there certainly wasn't blush sauce piled on top.
Once again, friends, a weekly listing of things it's possible I did. But I didn't. Of course.