We’ve been in Gulf Shores for the last two weeks – visiting my parents and letting Mike have some un-interrupted time to work on his thesis. We’ve been having a blast – wait until I get the pics off the camera – gorgeous shots.
The other night we all went out for dinner. Just greasy/salty burgers and fries. The boys and I came home crazed with thirst. Pax’s new thing is drinking water out of a glass BY HIMSELF. Doesn’t want help. His shrieking and fists of fury make him very clear on this point.
I hand him the glass. He drinks the water so vehemently that it all comes sloshing down in a torrent, choking him. He coughs so violently that he vomits up all of the french fries (aka dinner). Probably for the best, really.
I sigh. Then grab paper towels and start wiping the puke off the floor. Pax watches, grabs his own paper towel, then fat-boy waddles over and starts wiping (in that flinging, baby-no-control kind of way) at the puke. He was helping to clean it up. May my future daughter-in-law never say that I didn’t teach my boys how to clean.
But the poor kid is still coughing. Up comes one more mighty heave, and Pax is staring at a new pile of french fries/ice cream/god-knows-what-else in a puddle on the floor. Without missing a beat, the kid goes back to cleaning it up. Cause that’s what we do, people. You puke? You wipe. Puke and wipe.
The kid seriously cracks me up. Even without the colander that he refuses to take off his head.
Yup. He’s just been walking around like that. He totally knows he’s funny.