Tom spotted a puddle of milk coming out from under a chair in the living room tonight as we were packing to leave. Yes, it was the tell-tale sign of a sippy cup gone to cheese. For those who were parents before the sippy-cup era, at some stage in the cheese-making process, there must be enough gas built up so that it belches milk out of the sippy cup valve (wow, I sound like a guy with all these gaseous words I'm using!) And the bouquet of sippy cup cheese is not pleasant like Camembert or Gouda. It's more in the style of Limberger. I can't even imagine how much I would be tearing my hair out if I had anything but hardwood floors: hardwood floors are a mother of small children's best friend.
Tom commented on a friend who braked his car suddenly and a sippy cup of unknown vintage came rolling forward on the car floor. This friend viewed the sippy cup with the same trepidation one would have with a live hand grenade.
This is why sippy cups come in many colors and we've learned to not have two cups of the same color; that way, when one goes missing and then reappears, you can roughly estimate how old it is and whether it's even worth washing or should just go directly to the trash can to avoid releasing toxic spores into the household environment.
Alas, no blogging while we're on vacation. We'll be back with pictures and stories in a few days.
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