Drumsticks

Dylan had a no pants day yesterday because some days are just like that. Aaron brought her in to daycare, so they just assumed it was a daddy-got-the-baby-dressed thing. I could have sold him down the river, but it seemed like some sort of injustice so I eventually fessed up. Her legs are like on an action figure, where they can spin in any direction. It doesn't help matters that her thighs are so chunky they seem like little detachable drumsticks. Not that I'm going to, you know, detach them or anything.


A brief explanation for the CinderAaron picture. We are not ones to keep the house particularly spotless. The Aaron part of we more so than the Kate part, but I'm not much into cleaning and tidying either. I was for some reason possessed to clean behind the fridge the other day. The fridge that came with the house, so I can't even conclusively say when the last time it was moved, because it was before we moved in. That may give you an idea of what lay behind it. Despite his general indifference to being able to walk through the bedroom without wading through two feet of clothing, when confronted with certain situations Aaron is quite compulsive. So all I had to do was move the fridge and sit back, relax, and wait for the scrubbing to being. Voila.