Hair Cut, Lemon Bars

     Clara has had a fever off and on for the last couple of days.  It was 99.5, then 100.5, then normal.  I took her to the doctor's office yesterday.  Our regular pediatrician wasn't in, so we saw one of the other doctors in the practice.  Clara was quite relieved that it wasn't Dr. Schaffer who walked into the examining room, as she associates Dr. Schaffer with shots.  She held very still while the doctor checked her ears and heartbeat.
     The doctor's conclusion: Who knows?  Probably a virus.
     My conclusion: More teething.
     This morning, a friend who just graduated from hair school came over to give Clara and me a trim in our kitchen.  Clara, poor baby, was feeling pretty rotten, in spite of back-to-back Winnie the Pooh and Toy Story, warm jammies, and bread with blackberry jam.
     When my friend tried to trim her bangs, Clara hung her head, causing a slight miscalculation in the bang length.  It didn't seem to make her any less kissable.

     

      I had trouble getting Clara to eat anything as the evening progressed, buttressing my suspicion that the last of the one-year molars and the canines are coming in.  I offered her peanut butter and jelly, banana, oranges, chocolate ice cream, eggs and anything else I could think of.
     On our way back from running errands, I noticed two girls had set up a lemonade stand in front of our hedge.  Their names, I discovered, are Deana and Hallie.  They are twins, and live just down the street. Besides the lemonade (and free dog treats and water), they were selling homemade lemon bars.  I bought one to entice Clara with.  She took a bite and immediately spit it back out.  My husband and I had no choice but to gobble it up ourselves later, after dinner.  It was gooey and delicious.