Wyatt has taken the big step known as "solid foods". I find this (like many things about parenthood) as a bit of a misnomer. I won't recite Webster's to you, but my personal definition of a "solid" is something along the lines of "something you can't drink". These foods have almost nothing solid about them. They spill , they slide, they get everywhere, and I'm pretty sure you could drink them through a straw. Would you consider a milkshake a solid? No you wouldn't and thus, liquified peas shouldn't count either, but I digress. Wyatt seems to enjoy his new dinnertime, but mysteriously, the first spoonful always elicits a puckered face like I just squirted lemon juice in his mouth.
Every product made for children boasts a "removable, machine washable cover", which I understand the need for, but we have been lucky that we have never had to remove-and-machine-wash anything because the bugger's been pretty tidy thus far. No more. Every meal is an explosion. I know this is par for the course, but it never gets old. I will laugh every time I find sweet potato in THE HAIR ON THE BACK OF HIS HEAD! How does it get back there? Wyatt will never tell.
They grow up so fast! Next thing you know he'll be buying for the other kids.
How does a sophisticated young gentleman relax after a hearty meal and a frosty cold beverage? In style.
Wyatt: "Hey ladies, I think I dropped my watch in here, can you help me out?"
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