We really need to watch what we do. I've said that already, right? Practice what I preach yo.
I painted Bug's room today, blue to match her bed set.
She just noticed some blue paint on my leg, and watched me as I licked my finger to rub it off. She then mimicked me, rubbing her slobber-soaked finger on my leg.
Funny enough. I'm laughing. Ha ha. You're so entertaining and you know it. You can stop now, really.
But no, she can't stop. She puts her fingers a little too far down her throat and makes that awful retching sound. She follows that up by wiping her hand on my leg. Of course I'm laughing, so she continues. Poke. Retch. Wipe. Poke. Retch. Wipe. It's awful and disgusting and so wrong, but I can't stop laughing, and now my leg has slobber dripping off of it like the tears running down my cheeks. Yes, I'm laughing that hard, and it's so wrong.
To add insult onto injury, I wet myself just a little when she loudly announced, "I did it!" to proclaim the blue splotch gone from my knee.
