A week or two ago, I was walking home and I passed a tree stump near our house. The tree was a big one; one Grant likes to try his luck against regularly. I noticed that the tree was actually rippled under the bark. Like a book dropped in the bath and left to dry.
It’s still chilly when the sun isn’t out, at 52 degrees, but we can’t resist going to the playground.
My little guy looks so little when he sits all alone, getting his hearing tested.
Yesterday Grant told me that his toy was under the couch, and could I check for him? We had some precedent for this, since we had earlier found a beloved toy under his bed. So I got down on my hands and knees, and put my head down to look under the couch and Bam! Next thing I knew, Grant was hauling himself up on my back, giggling like a madman.
He likes to hold Socks for a bit, and give him some nice pets. Then he lets him go and pushes him off the couch.
Bright, cold winter days lend themselves to cuddles.
Celebrating the day after the day after his birth (76 years later). We are very very serious people. It’s our Danish heritage.
He was sitting on this bench normally, and once he saw me taking a photo he got into a model pose with one leg up and his hand casually behind him.