I feel like this slightly blurry vision of the baby walking with his wooden alligator pushcart pretty much sums it up. All of it. These days have been all about the constant movement of small people, and the attempts of their assigned grown-ups to keep up, until we all collapse in an exhausted after-dinner heap. I suppose that the looming presence of Match Day is contributing to my strong desire to get my head to the pillow early in the evenings too. Friday cannot come and go quickly enough. Really. Also, this cough could get on its way out the door and I wouldn't complain.
Yesterday we took Z. to the toy store to let him pick out his first real stuffed animal. Turns out that the little guy is a hugger, and after watching him delight in the company of a stuffed lemur belonging to his big sister for a couple of days, I figured that he should have an inanimate animal companion for his very own. We let him choose, employing a strategy similar to the one that the eye doctor uses when showing you that letter chart through different lenses. "One or two? Two or three?" The choices narrowed to cat or badger. He chose the badger. Now he totes it around the house hugging its head to his chest and patting it on the bottom. Goodness.
Also, it should be noted that I believe strongly in the importance of various things, and that chief among them is the idea that babies of a certain age should always wear overalls.
