Eleanor is starting to take a lot more interest in her toys, so we often have random things scattered about the house. We recently left a stuffed Winnie-the-Pooh in the middle of the family room.

Winston spotted the bear while doing his usual prowling about the house. He sunk three inches lower and froze. What was that? Hmm, not very big but suspiciously furry. He began to slowly inch closer. I could almost hear him grumbling. First that idiotic dog. Then the shrieking mini-human. What have they brought home now?

He reached the bear and gave it a tentative sniff. No idea what it was, but no matter. He thrust his tail back into the air, turned up his nose and walked away. His status as the most superior mammal in the house remained intact.

Greg almost always gets up with Eleanor in the morning while I sleep because I work nights. I decided that for Father’s Day, I should let him sleep in. And Eleanor and I were going to make him breakfast in bed (French toast, his favorite). And I had brought home the Sunday edition of the New York Times for him to read while enjoying his breakfast. It was going to be a great day.

Eleanor woke at 6:30 for a feeding, and when I put her back in her crib, she wasn’t asleep but seemed content. I grabbed the baby monitor and went back to bed. She would fall asleep in a few minutes.

More than a few minutes passed. Eleanor’s babbling got louder, so I went into her room to see if I could rock her to sleep. After much rocking and bouncing and pacing, I laid her down. And a fountain, no, a geyser, of milk erupted from her mouth. She had emptied the entire contents of her stomach. She blinked her long lashes, trying to see through the muck. I grabbed a couple burp cloths and started to dry her off and pull off all her clothes.

There was a pizza-sized wet spot on her bedding, so that would have to come off too. If I had gotten more than five hours of sleep that night, and more than four hours of sleep the night before, I might have been able to deal with this, but I am not one of those magical elves who can function without sleep.

I carried Eleanor into our room and woke Greg. At 7:20 a.m. Eleanor had not emptied the entire contents of her stomach. She spit up on him. Happy Father’s Day!

We did manage to get Eleanor to sleep a little more, and both of us got a bit more rest. But those people who eat breakfast in bed and read the Sunday Times? Those people are not parents.

I heard the DJ on the radio give the weather report this morning:

“Get out there today and enjoy the beautiful weather because the end of the week is going to be hot. Look for a high of 95 today. We’re going to be all the way up to 102 on Thursday and Friday.”

No doubt Eleanor and I should be outside right now taking a walk or having a picnic – and enjoying the beautiful 95 DEGREE weather. But crazy people that we are, we’re inside in the air-conditining.