Our writing word for today shall be: solid.
Last night was a whole lot of fun. Met a bunch of interesting fellow restaurant suppliers, from fish and meat vendors to other farmers, and caught up with some familiar faces as well.
Also: our room was amazing. Was not expecting a lakeview at all.
Mine:
To celebrate Max reaching the ripe old age of five months, we started him on solid foods today. Well, if you can consider a bit of mushed up banana mixed with breast milk solid.
Anyway, he's been showing a lot of interest in our food at meal times lately. Honestly he was probably ready to chow down a few weeks ago but we wanted to hold off as long as was reasonable. Plus we very definitely didn't want to start this leg of the parenting journey right before we left for our road trip.
But he can pretty much sit up on his own now (still a bit wobbly) and he's been reaching for our food like he knows what he's doing for weeks. It just didn't seem fair to make him wait any longer.
He seemed to enjoy the experience, though he clearly wasn't entirely sure of what was going on. I think this picture sums up the whole thing pretty well:
3 comments:
That's a great picture! I like how Max is working out what's edible the empirical way, and appears to be enjoying the whole experience. Very cute :)
Solid
"Holographic art," said the red-headed woman. Her words were slightly indistinct as she was chewing on something as she spoke. The couple who were stood in front of her desk looked a little puzzled. "Caramel?" She proffered a paper bag. "They're salted."
"No, thank-you," said the man. His moustache sagged a little and started to peel off. The woman next to him pulled her hand back; she'd been about to take one. "What kind of art did you say?"
The red-head swallowed and smiled. "Holographic art. Art that looks solid, but isn't. Sculpting light and freezing it in place. We have a very talented artist who's at the forefront of this field and we have some of his work in here on display at the moment."
"Red 5?" asked the woman, and then cringed as the man turned his head and glared at her. His moustache sagged a little more, and the left-hand side started hanging off altogether.
"I believe he's dead," said the red-head politely. "Wasn't he the one reported in the papers as part of the mayoral scandal? Believe me, we'd love to have some of his work to show!"
"So who's the artist you're exhibiting then?" The man had finally realised his moustache was falling off and placed his finger under his nose to hold it on.
"Vermilion V," said the red-head innocently. "Absolutely no relation. Now, would you people like to see some solid art, or some holographic art? Before any more bits fall off?"
The phone was ringing for the 14th time since they all arrived back from school, and for the 14th time he yelled, “Don’t answer the phone! It’s her again!”
We had all had it with the obsessive calling of 14-year-old Rachel McFee, girlfriend to Finn Daugherty. It wasn’t even dinner yet. 8 people live in this house. Does she think no one is here?
“Finn” I yelled. “Finn, that’s enough. If you want to break up with this girl could you please do it before dinner? I don’t want to listen to this again tonight.”
“Don’t answer. She’ll get the point.” Coolly said Finn
“She’s not. I don’t know why she keeps calling your sorry behind, but she’s not likely to stop anytime soon.” I countered
The phone rang again.
“Do it, Finn. Dump this girl. For the love of God, just dump her.” I begged
“You do it!” Finn snapped back
“Are you crazy? I am not dumping your girlfriend for you.” I screamed.
“Tell her I’m dead. Oh yeah, that’s good. Listen up everyone. If you answer the phone, and it’s Rachel, just tell her I’m dead.” He said thoroughly amused with himself.
The phone rang for the 16th time.
“Finn?” I angrily sang.
“Please, she’s so annoying!” he whined in a repulsive teenage voice knowing he was losing an argument.
“I had no idea.” The sarcasm is too easy to ignore at this point in our weeklong conversation about the calling of Rachel McFee.
“Please! Just do me this one solid? Break up with her or tell her I’m dead. I don’t care. I just can’t deal with her anymore. Please!” exhaustedly said Finn
“Hello?” I asked. “No, Rachel. I am very sorry to tell you this, but Finn asked me to tell you he is dead. Yes, you heard me correctly. He asked me to tell you he is dead, and I am asking that you stop calling him especially when it is dinner. Thanks dear. Have a nice night.” I nonchalantly said.
“Jesus, Mom! I can’t believe you just did that.” Protested my 17-year-old son as he huffed out of the room.
“Dinner’s ready!” I cheerily called to the rest of the family.
Now, this is a true story loosely based on my family. Would you believe that 20 years later, those 2 are actually married?
Greg - the empirical way? Hah, I love it!
Vermillion V... awesome.
Also: sigh, Tagged.
Mo - haha, I definitely believe that. Ah, young love :P
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