This picture was taken less than ten hours after Christian abandoned us for cheese, beer, and what I’m told is a fabulous convertible rental car, not to mention six days of the wife-and-baby-free high life. It’s a really good thing we have a maid-type-person because the apartment used to always look this way, and apparently reverts back to it if left in my ever-so-capable hands for more than a couple hours.
Forty-eight hours after this picture was taken, Nico would manage to pull that ladder at the top of the room down on his head. There was much crying, though no bleeding nor signs of any swelling at all really. In fact, I can’t be completely sure that ladder and head connected as I was in the kitchen at the time (I know: Bad Mommy!). But Nico did live up to his future as a drama queen by going to sleep an hour later (this was in the middle of the afternoon) and not waking up (well, except to eat every two hours) until 5am the next morning, while I googled such cheery subjects as “symptoms of concussion.”
We have about 44 more hours until Christian returns from his business trip. At the rate we’re going, if we make it that long, it will be a miracle along the lines of… well, something really miraculous.