The other morning Dash was singing to himself in the bathroom, as sometimes he does, a little ditty of his own creation whose lyrics went, "I am shorter than the Statue of Liberty, I am shorter than the Statue of Liberty..."
Mabel, over breakfast: I don't like it when I stick my finger into my bellybutton.
Me, reasonably: Well, don't do it then.
Mabel, slyly: But I like it when I stick my finger into your bellybutton.
Me: [Sceptical look, because that's not happening.]
Mabel, with glee: Maybe I could stick my finger in Daddy's bellybutton...
She's up again, and seems much happier, and in no way feverish or otherwise sick, so here's hoping it will all work out perfectly. Considering Dash is off school for the next nine days, it may be the last nap she takes in a while (it's very hard to get her to sleep when he's awake, and very hard to get him to leave me alone for long enough to do so), so it's probably just as well.
Coincidentally, blogging may be light in the coming week. May the force be with us all.