Dylan's birthday, T minus one week

I met someone this weekend who asked how old my baby was. I said almost two, and she said oh, that's not a baby, clearly incensed by my false advertising. Now that I've been straightened out, there are going to be a few changes around here. For one thing, people who are not babies can tidy up for their own birthday parties, thank you very much.

Two, plastic bags are totally fine to play with.

Three, mimosas.

Also, it's time to learn how to break a stick over your knee like a real man.


And finally, it's time to undergo that rite of passage where we put a picture of your face on a cake and then cut it up and eat it.

Aaron pointed out that ideally the picture on the cake would have been Dylan eating last year's cake, but there's always next year.