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My friend Jennifer recently stopped by with her daughter T to get her fix of Young Old. I don't blame her; he is addicting.
A rare treat for Young Old. Rather than listen to Papa Old drone on and on while reading that godawful boring blah blah fucking blah out of his Harper's magazine, he was able to feast his eyes and ears upon something a bit more age appropriate. By the way, Portland's library system is wonderful. They sent us a free kid's book in the mail as a way to encourage early reading for the budding bookworm. Thanks nerds!
Really, though, Young Old loves to be read to, sitting there raptly at attention, eyes scanning the colors and shapes, ears pricked for the droll sounds emanating from our lips.
Mama K fresh home from work, soaking up her Baby Boy, whom she misses so dearly throughout the day. Don't worry, Mama K, he knows you love him...
As you can see from the boxes stacked against the wall behind these two angelic faces, we are in the midst of a serious packing effort, in preparation for the closing on our first home sometime tomorrow or early next week. Wish us luck, because frankly it scares the hell out of me how unbelievably crazy we are for doing this in the middle of our nation's current financial Armageddon. *inhale* Breath Old, breath.
Frisco the Cat was very pleased with herself for staging this boycott of Young Old's thievery of her adult playmates' attention. Mama K went to use her breast shield (a form of body armor utilized to protect against Young Old's Jaws-like chompers), and found Frisco the Cat's favorite mouse cuddling with the faux-nipple. Good kitty, way to stick it to the WoMan.
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