The sweet girl has been sick for almost a full week. She's had a sore throat and a terrible, deep cough. We had to take her to the doctor a few days ago, who thought she might have strep. Thankfully, that turned out not to be the case, but she's still been feeling miserable, especially because the bad cough is often making her sleep quite restless or broken (and her mom's too!).
Her fever broke a few days ago, and her energy is improving, but her appetite still leaves much to be desired. So I was pleased tonight when she wanted a second helping of applesauce, sprinkled liberally (of course) with cinnamon-sugar.
And it turns out that she'd coined her own word for the big heaping mouthfuls of cinamonny applesauce she was enjoying: her daddy informed me, laughing, that she'd told him she'd eaten a "biggle" of it. "A what?" I asked blankly (having missed the initial exchange while I was in the bathroom). "A biggle," my husband explained patiently, while the sweet girl sat there, grinning at me while she continued to eat. "She says a biggle is a big spoonful."
Ah, but of course!