Eve firsts...

Yes, I know... I said next time I'd discuss more musical old favorites. But... I can't think of any right now.

Eve slept a little better last night than lately, and it was also easier to get her down to begin with. Yay!

She was just the most precious pink Leopard you've ever seen for Halloween. She also managed to snag her first taste of chocolate....

We'd trick-or-treated at Tom's parents, Eve's pediatrician's (his parent's neighbor), Tom's sister's, and Tom's buddy's house, collecting a v. respectable amount of candy. Is it against child labor laws to force your not-quite-one-year-old to do the onerous task of candy collection yet withhold the spoils for yourself? I *wish* we'd had the video camera... because she played her part perfectly. We'd set her in front of the door, put her candy bag at her feet, ring the door bell, and hide. Everyone was greeted by a lone, smiling pink cat, who immediately turned tail and ran for mom :). Too bad we couldn't teach her to say Trick-or-Treat. Ah well, next year.

Once we reached Grandma's, all the other houses were within very short driving or walking distance, so Eve never had to suffer the monotony of a car ride. However, after we took a short dinner break at Grandma's, we headed to the great grandparents, which required a bit of a drive. Eve immediately put her foot down about that, and insisted on some sort of new entertainment. I handed her a wrapped mini Twix. Deep in the back of my mind I chose a candy without nuts... "just in case." but I knew she wouldn't be able to get the wrapper off... it would just be something fun for her to play with.

And it was fun! She didn't make a peep for the rest of the drive. As we pulled up to the great grandparents' house, Tom leaned back to check on Eve. She'd been so quiet he thought she'd fallen asleep. Ha!

"Jenn, I think she is eating it."

"No way." I say, as I get out of the car and open the back door.

"She is eating it!"

I grab the large half of the wrapper, in which most of the candy bar (not already on her face or in her belly) is still residing. She's got cookie and chocolate all over her face, and all over her fingers. She knows the jig is up. Even as I snatch the larger piece from her left hand, with her right she frantically stuffs the other bit of wrapper (and crumbs of chocolate and cookie) into her mouth and activates the jaws of steel. There is a light in her eyes of triumph, but unfortunately for her, she left a corner of the wrapper outside her lips... and a gentle tug disengages the entire thing. She giggles. No matter what I do, she's already had chocolate... I can't take that away from her. It's a struggle to wipe her face and nose, but even more difficult is the task of getting it off her hands... she fists her hands, valiantly trying to spare the vestiges of chocolate left on her palms... but I prevail, and except for a lingering aroma of the forbidden treat, she is clean.

Now, when unsuspecting relatives offer her a bowl of wrapped candy bars, instead of looking vaguely at them, wondering what they're trying to interest her in now, she--with the speed of a mamba--whips out her hands, grabs whatever her fingers land upon, and whisks it to her mouth, desperate for another taste of divine indulgence. But I'm on to her now.