Pictures for Dada

Dada whined at me the other day that he had to read all this text on the blog, and who wants to do that? "Where are the pictures?" he fussed.

Here you go.* Quit yer bellyachin'.


I confess that I have not taken many pictures as of late. The most interesting ones from the last few weeks full of stomach flu would have been of naturally-made sculptures in the toilet. As we finally began to get well and visited the farm last week with Ella and her mommy, Isaac begged me to look at his poop, as is his wont to do, during a trip to the potty there. "Mommy, look at my poop!" he urged. "It looks like a rhinoceros! See its horn?"

Ella's mommy took some awesome ones, though. These were my favorite; the Three Amigos, posed on a picnic table. Note how the boy-cheese is separate from the girl-cheese.



This is the one picture I took during our family-wide bout with the trotskies. We decided only voodoo magic would cure Dada's intestinal distress, and so applied to him a poultice of whole babies.


Apparently those voodoo cookbooks know a thing or two, because he did get better, as did we all. Now if we can just stay that way through a new onslaught of preschool-manufactured germs, that would be swell.

*taken by Uncle Chrissy with his birthday camera during our July visit