Revenge of the Grandparents...

Hey Mom and Dad... Remember when we were kids and Elizabeth and Danielle were over for dinner one evening? (These two lovely ladies are the neighbor girls we grew up with. We practially LIVED at each other's house during the summer time.) Ok, ok, there were many evenings they were over. Well, this particular evening you had shut the door between the kitchen and the dining room, where we were eating. At the time, I thought it was because you trusted us and wanted to give us freedom and fun on our own. I now realize that it was probably to block out the terror and chaos that we were creating. Because that particular evening, we were filling our hamburgers with loads of ketchup and smashing down the top of the hamburger bun as hard as possible in order to see how far the ketchup would squirt across the table! Needless to say, it had us giggling so hard that there was the inevitable occurence of explosive milk-through-the-nose laughter. Multiple times. I am SO sorry to whomever had to clean up after that dinner!

Well, rest easy. Because Danilo has made retribution. He took revenge for you two days ago after his mid-afternoon meal. He was so sweet and calm, as he nursed quietly. After a while, he sighed deeply, and let go. Suddenly, he sputtered a tiny sweet little cough, tilted his head up, and proceeded to SPRAY milk through his nose all over my face and chest! Then he gave me the nicest grin afterwards!

:-O

Well, lest I be mistaken for a woman without a competitive nature... I figure a little retribution of my own is called for. After all. I can't let the grandparents get the last word, can I!?

I
THINK
NOT.

This is Danny's latest cutest outfit:

Do we not agree he has THE CUTEST TOOSHIE in town? Oh, yes.
Oh wait! Check this picture out!
Wait, that's not Danny. WHO is that?!? Why, that's Renee (at 6 months old)! But why, pray tell, is she dressed like a boy? Funny you should ask! Wouldn't you like to know? No matter. I'll tell you anyway. Well, when I was a little booger sweet baby, I had a rather short torso. It made dresses difficult, because I would always crawl on the front of them. Being the sensible mom that she is, my Mom dressed me in pants and shirts. So I often looked like a... well, I looked like a boy. When we were out and about in the grocery store the sweet little ladies would say to my parents, "Aaaaw! What a sweet little boy! What's his name?" And my mom - this is where the sensibility ENDS - would reply, "Andrew."

What!?

No wait... it gets better.

My Dad's answer was, "Alvin," just to see the looks on the poor little ladies in the grocery store who were horrified that such a cute little baby - because I was cute - would have such a horrendous name. (Anyone reading this named Alvin out there, please accept my humblest apologies!)

When it came time to go get my six month old portraits done, my Mom dressed me in my her the favorite outfit, with the favorite hat (given to me by my uncle) and took me on down to the photography studio. The lady said, "Aaaw, what a cute little boy! What's his name?" You guessed it. "Andrew," replied my Mom. And she proceeded to let the photographer take my photo as a BOY!!

Be ashamed. Be very very ashamed.

Yes. I'm scarred for life. Can you tell? ;)

At least we've got the gender-appropriate outfit on the kid now. Here he is, wearing my baby hat (yes, that thing is 30 years old).
Here he is with an old clown toy that was also mine. It has a little bell inside and it was one of my favorites!
"Hey, whoa! That thing is scary! Mom, don't you know clowns are scary to kids!? Sheesh!"
"Plus, it seriously needs to be washed. Gross, Mom."
"Oh, you played with that when you were a kid? Oh, yeah, it's kinda' cool."
"Hmm, what does it do?"
"Cool jingle!"