This morning granma was going on about how a piece of tissue landed in the laundry and how husband's shirt was full of tissue.
And I suddenly remembered...
Of how, during Anjali's nature study lesson, we took her down to cafe cartel for breastfeeding.
Of how, in cafe cartel, husband discovered that the flower on her (new) dress that she was so happily chewing was running its colours.
Of how, we made her stand on the table to remove her dress because the little piglet simply wont sit put while we got it off.
Of how, in the midst of removing her dress I noticed a funny smell coming from her diaper and realized that it had better be changed.
Of how, deciding that it would be too scandalous to remove Anjali's diapers while she stood on the table and people were eating all around us, husband laid her down on the next table and changed her.
Of how, after changing her clothes, we got distracted by another baby in the table behind and started comparing excited notes about Anjali's development.
Of how, after finishing our (and Anjali's) drink, we whisked out of cafe cartel since we were already late and we needed to get that sofa bed before the day was out (and days get out early with Anjali needing to be in bed by 9.30 (fed and watered and cleaned and everything).
While remembering all this, I also suddenly remembered
Of how, due to the lack of dustbins in cafe cartel, Husband had stowed the perculiarly smelling diaper in a plastic bag and chucked it into Anjali's bag for a more opportune moment.
And of how the opportune moment never arrived until granma was talking about tissue papers in the laundry this morning, three days later.
All I can say is that I am glad that my mother didnt see me sneak the plastic bag into the dustbin this morning.
(reading it on the blog doesnt count, its post reflective analysis)