Butterfingers

I spent the entire day discussing my hair. I guess the people, they like their bowl cuts. If you want to see a full frontal version, as requested in the comments to yesterday's post, you can go here and see what else I did today when not explaining that no, I will never again take the time to make my hair look nice, stop PRESSURING ME.

This evening we went out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. We are rapidly approaching the day when we cannot just whisk Dylan out to dinner and expect all the commotion to be enough to entertain her while we enjoy a nice meal. [editor's note: that day has already come and gone but certain parties are enjoying a certain level of denial] However, once Dylan discovered the joy of eating the little butter packets with her fingers we heard not a peep from her until she dropped it in the car on the way home, at which point she peeped until it was back in her greasy little mitts.