Well, it isn't really the first day of Christmas, but my first gift came and Mr. Barefoot was kind enough to let me open it early.
Yeah, I got a Swivel Sweeper. A part of me is a little disgusted with myself. With all the ads on TV proclaiming "Every Kiss Begins with Kay" or "He went to Jared", I asked for a Swivel Sweeper. How romantic is that?
I am glad to have it, though. I hate sweeping with brooms, because there is always that line of dirt that doesn't want to go into the dustpan. So I have been sweeping and then following up with one of those bitsy little vacuums for the last 15 years. Unfortunately, my little vacuum is dying. I don't think it was ever intended to live this long in the first place. Now I can pick up all the crud that Little Sprout dumps on my floor, and a clean house makes me happy!
In other Little Sprout news, she is totally in love with the chicken at my Folks' place. There is one left that spends it's time running around the yard and hanging out in the garage.
Little Sprout saw the chicken yesterday, and started following it around the yard. Well, this chicken is evidently smarter than your average chicken, and wanted nothing to do with her and her craziness, so he started heading off into the little patch of woods between my folks' place and our old apartment building.
Little Sprout stopped in the middle of the yard, threw her hands up in the air, and yelled
"Hey Chickie! Where you going?!"
It was so funny. Especially when Dad went to get Little Sprout and she was going on Safari through the trees to find her "Chickie". Short folks can work their way through underbrush that tall folks really have a hard time with.
Little Sprout is also learning her body parts. She spends lots of time pointing to different places on her body and asking us what they are.
The other day, she was sitting on my lap and playing a version of the game where she would grab my nose and say "nose", grab my lips and say "mouth, etc. Then, she pulled the neck of my shirt out, looked down inside my shirt at my cleavage, and yelled "Butt!".
Ummm, no, kid, that is not my butt.