There are fourteen toddlers. By racking my brains and using memory palace techniques (if you must know: who sleeps where and which ones wake up howling so you need to hover near them in time to prevent other kids from waking) I arrived at fourteen names. No memory of a fifteenth, not even their sex. But the sun was shining and the wind had sort of dropped, so for exercise I biked over to the daycare intending to check out the birthday board. But DC had yellow tape blocking the front steps. 'Sure do take this closing business seriously,' I muttered, intending to duck under and go in. But no, because the tape had a 'wet paint' sign on it, and the steps were indeed tacky. The university, in its down time, has painted our steps in the rough paint necessary to repel dirt from shoes and to resist salt and snow in winter. So much for that.
(Messaged a staff who provided the name: the oldest girl, often away on trips with her parents. But a go-to-bed howler, whose memory I must have blotted from my mind.)
And since I was out, I dropped by the conveni of infinite temptation again and this time bought white vinegar, which I use in my dishes' rinse water. And since I do so many dishes these days, it's much needed. And now I needn't lumber myself with that if and when I go to the super again. Alas, the conveni did not have M or L sized gloves, and I'm stuck with a box of S's that rip when I put them on. In any other year I'd stick them on the front lawn with 'free to a good home' but this year I doubt anyone would take them. Then again, in any other year I wouldn't have bought them in the first place.