This morning I was putting the dishes away--they were very dry since they had been sitting there, drying, for the past 48 hours. There was not a drop of water on a single dish. Things were moving along well...and then Rachel decided she'd had enough alone time so I picked her up and continued to put away the dishes.
With Rachel on one hip, I grabbed a dish with my free hand and proceeded to cross the kitchen as I had before (keep in mind my kitchen is about two steps wide) and I slipped, nearly dropping the baby and the glass bowl I was holding.
I looked down to see what I slipped on. It was water--I must have spilled some...but since the dishes were dry that would be impossible. It was a quandary, really. There were little drips of water all over my kitchen floor. I looked up at the ceiling; it wasn't leaking. I hadn't been doing anything with water--the dish cloth was dry.
And then my leg got hit with thick, wet baby drool. It didn't take me long to connect the the dribble running down my leg to all the little puddles on the floor, especially when I saw Rachel's face. It looked something like this:
She's been a little drool factory lately. She loves to just sit around and blow bubbles, which is rather cute but can be an occupational hazard.