I think these sneakers are super cool, and we can't walk five steps down the street without someone or another stopping us to agree.
They're Saucony (apparently they were a thing when we were teenagers, although I don't personally remember that), and you can buy them in various colors in infant/toddler sizes. Cute cute cute.
Now that's talent.
Or a 19-month-old, generally. Or both.
Just to be clear, all of the activities above went on for far, far longer than pictured.
And that first one resulted in our decision to replace the floral tie-backs surrounding our couch with new, non-jagged ones.
My son loves drums.
This is great; encouraging musicality, general adorableness, et cetera et cetera. It'll probably be less great when he's sixteen, but for the time being it's extremely cute.
What is not great is the fact that drums - and drum-related things like xylophones - come with components called "drumsticks", which we might as well just toss out the car window on the way home from the toy store, that's how easy they are to lose. Don't even get me started on my dogs and these things. You please try explaining to Lucy and Virgil that my son's toys are not made of beef jerky and ambrosia; I don't want to deal with it.
Anyway, I came up with a solution, so I thought I'd share.
Look at that little man.
Just rambling through the mall, all cool and grown-up and like ain't nothing gonna faze him.
The kind of guy who could just mosey on into a 10AM matinee of The Croods - no biggie - and just sit there, chilling in his seat with his popcorn, for the full one hour and thirty-one minutes.
