The Horror, The Horror.

I knew of course, the way one knows that you have to look both ways when you cross the street, that giving a baby a nursing cookie was a dangerous and messy thing. But knowing is one thing, acting on knowledge is another, and just like people still get run over, I gave the baby a nursing cookie the other day. Sure, it calmed her down, and eased her pain, and kept her busy, but oh my stars and garters, the mess! It is like they make them out of some form of ancient horse hoof based glue with a bit of sugar. Add saliva and it turns into a sticky brown paste that adheres to everything, imbeds itself into any fabric it touches, and leaves the sickly sweet smell of molasses on everything around it. MMMMMMM. Complaining aside, they really do work, and I sure was sore that I forgot to take one with me today, half way through Mount Pleasant Cemetary she started in a wailing, and cheerios just weren't cutting it. The picture isn't from the incident with the cookie that involved the inside of the ear, the eyelid, the back of the head and the feet (I was too traumatised to take pictures that time), it was when I just gave her a little corner to chew on.