Snail Trail

I have pictures of ginormous slugs from my first stay in France. There they are called les limasses (lay lee-mahs) and that's about it - no one notices them. They are the wallflower first cousin to the coveted escargot. I, however, was fascinated by them. So big - one would stretch from the tip of my index finger to the base of my hand. Not that I ever touched one, but just to give you the idea. I couldn't imagine such a big creature pulling itself across a paved road - did it not have nerves on its' underside? Did it not get scratched? I digress, but to show my point - I really spent a fair amount of time thinking about these slugs. Maybe it was homesickness in the first few months when I couldn't understand or be understood. Maybe it's just that I'm weird. Can't say - I just remember them clearly.

And so I remember the slimy, rubber cement-like trail they leave behind. And when I saw Kev's face during his mid-morning snack while the others were at the football game, I immediately tore around the kitchen trying to find the huge limasse that had left this trail from his nose to his hairline. What I particularly enjoy is that it traveled directly through his eyebrow, plastering those hairs up and all over the little guys temple.



But that is not the only snail trail in our house these past few days. Kev has learned a new trick. It involves the removal of both his pants and his diaper. For the most part, I think it's pretty funny - it's cold in Florida lately and so it's a bit cute to see him with shirt and sweater on and two perfectly formed cheeks peeking from below his sweater. But I did not think it was cute a.t. a.l.l. the first time he pulled this fancy trick. He had pulled off his pants and diaper while sitting on the floor and scooted himself over to show off his new skills. "Scooted himself over" is the important part of that last sentence. Use your imagination.

Snail trails indeed!