Food Critic

After his mother caught him trying to knick a slice of bread from her lunch plate today, we figured it was time to give Noah a crack at some real food. Well, if you can call rice mush real food. He was skeptical too, at first. But he got into the spirit on his second or third bite. Liz, naturally, thinks he's a genius at eating now. Not to mention handling the spoon.

Judge for yourself.

Baby Whip

To my knowledge Baby Jogger has not tested its products in earth orbit, but I’m pretty sure the harness on Noah’s new stroller is fit for space travel. Check out the padding on those shoulder straps! Just how fast are we meant to be pushing this thing?



Fast. At least compared to his old get-up, which I now realize had all the handling ability of a 14th-century ox plow (did that jalopy even have wheels?). And like the Gemini astronauts, whose bladders were compressed by liftoff, Noah is diapered, so there’s really no limit now.

How must it feel, to be liberated from the unchanging view of his old man and lady he’d been stuck with in that old backward-facing stroller? Four months old and finally he gets to turn his back to his dad and take in the world. How long before he starts ghostriding this whip? (Or this one.)

Oh, the places he'll go.

Negotiation #1

DAD: What's that? You want to try a little coffee in your milk?

NOAH: (...)

DAD: Make it Irish!? Sure, we can make it Irish. It's boys day. We can do anything on boys day.

NOAH: (...)

DAD: Absolutely not. Straws are for sissies.

NOAH: (...)

DAD: On the side of the mug? Donkeys and elephants. They stand for political parties.

NOAH: (...)

DAD: Yep. That's what they do to each other in real life, too. Politics ain't beanbag.

NOAH: (...)

DAD: Good point. They do seem to be having fun.

NOAH: (...)

DAD: Well, I guess if you're old enough to drink coffee, you're old enough for this. Let me explain...