Baby number two likes his calamari. At ten months old, it was time to give him a taste. We were visiting our smalltown pizzaria last night, and John was completely non-plussed with his pricey jar of chicken whatever, so I spooned some of Sal's marinara sauce on top, and he was opening his mouth like a hungry baby bird. Then he ate some pizza crusts and smiled at old ladies and waitresses.
Father's Day? John refused to feel good enough to really enjoy it, but we tried. (He is a wee bit sick or allergic to our house). Ella and I made him breakfast in bed and french presse coffee. She made a Frog Prince card. Brother kept reaching his arms out for daddy, and I took both children away for two hours this afternoon. Oh, and there was ice cream pie.