Sunday, October 30, 2011
The kind of pumpkins that turn your bones to glass
Three year olds are full of extraordinary observations. Clever thinkers too. JB asked how many more bites of dinner she needed to finish before she could have a ginger snap. I told her she needed to finish her bowl of pasta, period. She asked about how many bites that might be, I offered 25. She countered, "I'll eat three and then yell 25!". This was a good plan by any stretch. She also asked how pumpkins felt about getting carved. I suggested they looked forward to it, she suggested being gutted was probably not fun. Not interested in cleaning pumpkin guts. We can't wait for Halloween.
The Bug, talking about candy and in what order she plans to dominate her loot basket.
Pumpkin picking. Only wanted baby pumpkins.
Party in Travis Heights. Dad ate four sandwiches.
Everything round here getting creepy.
Sandlot baseball, Texas Playboys, east of the airport.
Dry run on jack-o-lantern prep.
More evidence of what's coming.
First strike, Rainbow Princess, office party.
The interns, not in costume.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment