A few nights back, Young Old decided to switch things up a bit, waking up around 3am and refusing to go back to sleep. Night owl that I am, I was still up, and, as expected, was assigned to baby duty. Earlier in the evening he had fallen asleep in that day's outfit (one of many outfits worn, but the one that had received only a minimal splattering of regurgitated mommy-milk), and I just thought he looked so cute sitting there on the couch in his gently-used argyle sweater. So we worked on his seizure-immunity through repeated exposure to camera flashes...enjoy the results.
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Not every picture of Young Old showcases his beauty. He sure can be a ugly critter when he wants to be. I still love you, Little One.
That's more like it. 
Obviously, he's still learning how to sit up. 
Okay, I think I've had enough, Papa Old. 
Frisco the Cat is still wondering what the fuck we dragged into the house. 
Okay, Dad. Now I'm ready for bed. 
Crane your necks please.
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