So this person known as "Grandpops" arrived for a visit a few days ago. They say we have the same earlobes, and he keeps trying to get me to say his name.
I am beginning to see where mama's braindamaged-ness comes from, and I have to say, at this point I'm frightened that it actually might be hereditary. Here's some photographic evidence from our trip to the Henry Ford Museum:
Everyone was real glad to see Grandpops, particularly Grandmom.
This is Dad trying to get me to take a bullet for him. What a wimp!
Mama and Dad decided we needed to go for a 3 mile walk the other day and had to find the perfect hat for me to wear on this momentous occasion. Le sigh....the things a baby has to put up with. It's almost criminal.
In other fashion news, Mama was very excited to get me in my first "butt sweater". Apparently, this wool thing is as good as the plastic pants they usually cover my diapers with. I like it because it's a) WAY more fashionable than the boring white plastic ones and b) it allows my "butt" to breathe. Dad was skeptical at first, but we're glad he's coming around.
Alright, all this "blogging" is wearing me out. Time for my nap! Peace out, Napoleon.