We left Jem's snuggly in Toronto, and only realized this calamity when we came home. His snuggly was one of my old maternity t-shirts, stretched out and worn, that he holds it to his face as he falls asleep.
Tonight I offered him another one of my t-shirts instead. I was nervous. Would he accept this substitute? He thought about it, held it for a while, smelled it thoughtfully, and said:
You gave me a t-shirt into my arms, and I feeled it, and I smelled it, and now it's a snuggly!
And he went to sleep.
. . . . . . . .
72 hours of sugar and sunshine (or, Easter weekend, as some might call it):
Violet ensures an even distribution of treats the Easter Bunny hid in the garden.
The booty in the basket.
Cupcakes by Teta Peach, enjoyed by all.
Jem eats the top off of everything first (even toast).
and then bring on the crazy (I mean Violet, not my family in the background).
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