Click me!

My daughter is currently in her crib, singing softly to herself.

“Happy Birthday to you.  Happy Birthday to you.”

There’s nothing else to the song.   Just those words.  It’s not even the first two lines of the song.  It’s just the first utterance of the phrase “Happy Birthday to you” in the exact same tone and melody.   Over and over again.

By all rights, my child should be completely passed out at this point.   We had a busy day.

We went grocery shopping in the morning, out to a noon-time neighborhood barbeque, then to a two o’clock Memorial Day/birthday party for our in-town friends, followed by a quick jaunt up to Madison to have a brief desert with AM’s folks and some out-of-town friends.

Other than a thirty minute catnap on the drive up to Madison (but not the drive back), my  daughter didn’t really sleep.

At all.

And that just blows my mind.  I’m personally at the point past exhaustion.  I’m still recovering from the season-opening bike ride followed by four-mile round trip trek to dinner at Luke’s Custard Shop.  (All calories burned by exercise were replenished by the chocolate malt I had there.)  So the fact that she’s still up and going is absolutely beyond my ability to understand.