So a few days ago, while changing Eva's diaper, I sniffed her toes and then made a big deal about how stinky they were. You know how it goes. Kids love that stuff. And oh, did she laugh. Mama's a comedic genius!
She then spent the next five minutes sticking her toes in my nose to torture me with their stinky-ness. She only gave up when I picked her up from the changing table and she realized she couldn't reach my nose from that position without some help. Not that she didn't try.
Then, that evening, as we were getting ready to take a bath (for the stinky toes, right?), she got me again. And again. And again. And then she stinky-toed Daddy in a sneak attack (to which I may or may not have been an accomplice.)
Ok. Then yesterday? I watched her giggle like a maniac as she crawled around after the cat, trying to stick her toes in his face. And poor Karl (yes, that's our cat) had obviously never played the stinky toe game, because he just kept walking away from her. He didn't even say "ew!" or fall over from the stench or anything. He just looked a little annoyed.
I'm sorry, I have no photo of the two of them together. I was laughing too hard to go get the camera. But here's a picture from a couple days ago when Eva and I made chocolate pudding. Let's pretend it's relevant.
