the caretaker

My daughter had some minor surgery this past week, and I went up for the weekend to take care of her and my granddaughter. Of course, in true Soodle fashion, she came home and acted as if nothing had happened. The doctor told her to go home and rest with an icepack, but did she? No. The only way that would have happened would be if I had first conked her over the head and knocked her completely out. It was sort of like the time when she got her wisdom teeth out. The doctor told her to go home and rest and not to eat anything crunchy for the day, you know, stick to soft stuff like mashed potatoes. I guess she heard potato and added chip to it because the first thing into her mouth was a chip, and it was pretty much downhill from there.

So anyway, I was up for the weekend to "help." This is where I'm supposed to complain about how hard it is to keep up with a one year old, how much work they are, how much trouble they are, and all that jazz. I think the following pictures will explain just exactly how overworked I felt.

I miss you sweet thing.