Yesterday we had a big outing day with Grandma during which IKEA, DSW and Albertson's were all conquered. Then we went to playgroup at the park. I was beat by the end of the day. But then, last night, I had bestowed upon me the divine honor of preparing and feeding my child his very first cheeseburger, the most sacred food of our clan. One of the reasons I married this kid's father was because he answered correctly when asked what his favorite food was.
See the perfect itty bitty bun? The adorable mini-beef patty? The delicate leaf of lettuce adorning the melted cheese? That burger was so good it should've been illegal. Fortunately, the boy pounded it down, dipping it ferociously in ketchup and mustard. I guess we'll keep him.
Today we took a nice little hike at Rancho San Antonio with Las Madres. Alex, again, thoroughly enjoyed himself with all the other kids. I'm beginning to think the apple didn't fall far from the tree when it came to his social skills.
For MONTHS now Dave had been telling me "Our boy needs CHICKENS". Which is odd considering the man himself is a little freaked out by them and won't, for the life of him, pick one up. You'd think a man built like a linebacker would fear nothing as small and as stupid as a wee chicken, but you'd be wrong. For whatever reason, Dave is really hung up on the idea that we MUST OWN CHICKENS. I think this may account for about 50% of the reasoning behind the planned move to WA. CHICKENS. Fortunately, scaredy pants aren't genetic.