Sunday was a very busy day for Moppet.
In the morning we had a birthday party to go to. Yes, another one. (And yes, I am aware that my 11-month old daughter has a busier social life than I do - there's no need to rub it in!) So we spent a fun couple of hours at the party, mucking about in the sandpit, and zipping around in a little red car.
The birthday party was followed by a trip to the hospital (some minor treatment for Moppet's Papa's foot) where she amused herself by:
wandering around the lounge, patting waiting patients reassuringly on the knee,
playing peekaboo from behind the receptionist's desk,
getting stuck while attempting to squeeze through the gap between two sofas,
spilling a glass of water in the corridor,
and dragging my purse through the puddle.
In the afternoon, after an all-too-brief nap, Moppet and I were banished from the bedroom by her Papa. (Moppet's Papa will put up with a lot of things but not with ANYTHING that disturbs his Sunday Afternoon Siesta.) So we spent the afternoon on our balcony calling out to the poor souls who were trying to spend a relaxing Sunday afternoon in the pool.
And in the evening, a visit to the Oceanarium - a lovely place with the most gorgeous aquariums and a huge variety of fish. Moppet appeared to enjoy it, pressing her face up against the tanks and pointing out the fish.
A quick stop at the supermarket (with only a minor mishap where she knocked over a row of shampoo bottles) and we were home for dinner.
I was completely spent, as was Moppet, and for once she didn't put up a fight when I put her to bed. She lay there quietly, holding my hand, softly babbling under her breath until she couldn't keep her eyes open any longer.
Sweet dreams, Moppet!