The Caterpillar is currently going through what I call the Velcro Stage of Development, where everything her little hands come near becomes quickly entangled in the vice-like death grip of tiny curling fingers. If her hand accidentally brushes my hair, it's a sure bet it will immediately stick there until I pry those mini sausages open -- much like I do when I accidentally wash The Dormouse's Velcro closing coat with one of my nylons. More than once this week, I've had to rescue her from the clutches of the blanket I'd put her down on because there seems to be a magnetic attraction between the corner of the blanket and her fist. Once she gets that in her clutches, she wildly flails her arms back and forth, never letting go, until the blanket is firmly and completely wrapped around her face. (Perhaps a nanny wouldn't be all that bad an idea.) This is generally coupled with or just slightly precedes the Will It Fit? Stage of Development, where the world is assessed into one of two categories: Things That Will Fit In My Mouth and Things That Will Not Fit In My Mouth. For example:

sofa: does not fit in my mouth
momma's knuckle: does fit in my mouth
momma's face: does not fit in my mouth
daddy's beard: does not fit in my mouth and bonus information: it's prickly
furball the cat barfed up: does fit in my mouth
own first: does not fit in my mouth but I'm working on that

Oh, and remember that you must test everything more then once because who knows when it might change? That sofa just might fit one day.

Who needs Piaget? I should write a book!

She also recently discovered her toes. When God created babies, I'm pretty sure He decided not to have the feet grow in later simply so there would always be an accessible toy that can't be dropped, lost, thrown out of reach or accidentally bonk them in the face.

This is what counts for entertainment in the life of a five-month-old. As you can see, she's extremely serious about her new hobby. Would that we all could find such cheap and accessible pastimes.