Miss Muffet

Today is officially the first day of spring, and to celebrate this beautiful day I took Betty (and her stuffed bunny) on her first picnic. While she was napping I set up the quilt, Bumbo, and red-and-white gingham picnic basket out in the field in front of our house. When she woke up I dressed her in her blue jean romper and the baby bonnet my great-grandmother Verna Lee made when my mom was a baby. We sat there enjoying the sunshine and breeze and solitude, and I started to wonder if we were making a mistake, moving an hour away to suburbia. Then a (giant! hairy! googly-eyed!) spider crawled up onto the blanket and that was the end of that train of thought--and the picnic. We went inside to finish lunch.

As if the spider didn't make a compelling enough argument on his own for leaving Green Acres, today I had to call Poison Control because Betty ate a ladybug. I'm pretty sure she's eaten ladybugs before--in fact, I'm almost certain she ate one earlier today. Until now though there's only been circumstantial evidence: a red spotted wing stuck to her cheek, for example. This time, however, I caught her in the act. I smelled that horrible smell that anyone who's dealt with a ladybug infestation knows is the smell of a ladybug in distress. Sure enough, there was Betty, chewing. I'm really glad her pincer grasp is developed enough that she can pick up bits of cooked apple, cheese, and Cheerios, but I do wish she wouldn't use it to pig out at the all-u-can-eat ladybug buffet that is her nursery.