Sometimes I feel like since I’m blogging from Senegal, each post should include some kind of African adventure. You know, riding a camel to the grocery store, dancing around a bonfire to djembé drums, adopting an injured monkey as a family pet… that kind of thing.
But sometimes life in Africa is just life that takes place in Africa.
Cheikh got handsomed up and drove off to work. I thought about changing out of pjs and made coffee.
I fed Pape, but got distracted by emails while he fingerpainted himself with puréed pears. Gave him a bath.
I grabbed some leftover pizza for breakfast while he hollered, “Mamamamama!” from the other room.
I read him a book and we had a little djembé djam session before his nap.
Skyped the grandparents who oohed and aahed appropriately over his standing skills.
Wondered what to do with him for the next eight hours.
Bubbles! Holly brought him a bottle of bubbles. Pape was part amazed, part terrified at first. Which is to say that he loved them.
I personally loved watching them float into the sky, over the trees, across the street and on down the block. I saw two people staring at them trying to figure out what was going on. Too funny! So I huffed and puffed and cracked myself up, standing on the balcony sneakily blowing bubbles.
Life in Africa. Sometimes it’s just life that takes place in Africa.