I haven't quite figured out what to do with this here weblog, now that I spend way more time interacting with Red than I used to (having been limited by his littlitude to gazing upon him and blogging about it like the proud papa I am).
So I've decided just to write about various other things I'm thinking about, readership be damned. That's not to say I won't wax interminably about Red -- I am a dad, after all. I just won't limit myself so much.
That said, allow me to wax somewhat terminably about Red.
He turned two the other day. This was obviously kind of a big thing around chez zygote, although I've been saying he's "2 in November"for about six months when asked his age. "Twenty months" just sounds weird, like saying it's 4:47 when you could just say "quarter 'til".
Anyway, a big thing because he's figured out what a birthday means: presents. He was a little confused (though obviously delighted) by the first couple of presents, but then all of a sudden the lightbulb went off. Red's eyes drew slowly upward to the magnificent pile of colored paper on top of the tv cabinet and a vigorous pointing ensued.
It's all downhill for us from here, I'm afraid. And to think Christmas is just around the corner.
Tell him Christmas comes in July. He'll never know.
Posted by: Papa Bradstein | 22 November 2008 at 06:24 PM