Dolla Bills Ya'll

Adeline's new fav thing to do is take everything out of my wallet and chuck it as hard as she can behind her as if examining each piece and then deciding it's not worthy of her slobber, until she finds a five dollar bill that was probably once in a stripper's crabby g-string and that is the object she shoves in her mouth.  It's a good thing she gets her shots because girlfriend would eat a dirty needle if she could find one.

Which is making our mornings a little more stressful than we'd like.

Why's that, you ask?  Well, because the first thing that happens in the morning is that the sunlight comes shooting through the windows only to shine light on the decapitated bird James has left at the foot of the bed, or the mouse entrails lining the bathroom floor, or the bird/mouse bloody combo piled on the middle of the floor like he's about to make a sacrificial bonfire of awful.  So instead of lounging in bed and taking in the morning with relaxation and happiness, we awake in a mad rush to clean up blood and guts before our baby eats it all.  Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a weird episode of Sarah Palin's My Alaska.  It's sort of a nightmare.

Anyway, one day Adeline will be old enough to clean up the body parts all on her own, at which point I will buy her her own tiny pair of rubber gloves and celebrate.  Until then, I'm not so worried about the money eating.  At least that doesn't leave a stain.