The Nugget and I were on our own last week, because Mr. Newsfeed was off being important and earning money to support our glitter habit. We wore pajamas like it was our uniform. Max's have cowboy monkeys on them. Don't even get me started on how opposable thumbs do not a cowman make.
Also last week, we decided to hit the children's museum. Not only is it only a couple of blocks from our little bungalow, but Max's Auntie Christina hooks us up with free passes cause she loves us real bad. I suspect it's also to stop the incessant texting and pouty faced pictures of the nugget in her email begging for them, but that doesn't mean she doesn't also love us. When I asked Max what he wanted to pack in his lunch to go to the museum, he said "orange." We were out of oranges. So I packed him all orange foods (pad thai, cheese crackers, and peaches) then explained in detail how the food was all orange and how funny Mama is.
This was his face...
|Target Monkey Backpack, Old Navy jeans, and baby H&M pablo shirt.|
He pepped up when we got to the baby room, however, and immediately grabbed an iron, threw that blanket on the ironing board, and got down to business.
I can guarantee he didn't learn this from watching his dad, so I was pretty prideful upon witnessing this.
If you'll notice in the picture, the ladies are taking notice. Even if it's a little creepy.
That is some great ironing, son. However, one of your babies is face down and smothering, one is lunging at the legs of your ironing board, and one is frying bacon in bed.
You'll want to get that in check.
When I came around to his little window to take his picture, I snagged his binky. This was his "please don't steal binkies while I'm ironing because that is just plain dangerous"
Notice the fat lip the lad acquired in nursery. Nursery, folks.
I think it may be time for Daddy to return and take this little guy out for some football.