It's mostly my fault (mostly). Today E came to me and told me that they (he and Hunter, a little boy I babysit) were picking leaves for his caterpillar. As per usual I said something to the effect of 'Oh, that sounds like fun' and continued on my merry way doing whatever it was I was doing at the moment. Here is the result:
My poor little plant! I had just gotten done reviving it from being sick in the first place, and now it's become plastic caterpillar food!
I really have no one to blame but myself. The problem being that E says so much per day that I can only take in about 65% of what comes out of that cute little mouth. If I actually processed everything I'd probably be much crazier than I already am. I have to hold tight to every sliver of sanity that I currently posses, it's a greatly appreciated commodity around here.