Young Samson has a wicked headcold. I spent almost 10 minutes this morning trying to clean his nose off before we went downstairs for breakfast. The poor little guy was so stuffed up and crusted over, he could barely protest with his customary "No. No like it!"
On the plus side, we got a break from N this morning as his dad stayed home from work to go pick his brother up from the airport.
Good deed; good deed; good deed...
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About Me
- dada
- Call me dada. This has, in the few months since my son started "talking," become my name. I'm sure (at least I hope) it will eventually morph into something less early 20th century art movementy --- but I am marked forever as dada. And this is a good thing. I have no real advice to offer, other than always carry Cheerios and extra onesies, and I don't really have a lot of 'wacky' adventures to regale you with. Truth be told, this is as much for me as it is for you. So, uh, thanks for stopping by. I hope it's at least an interesting time-killer. And if not, consider this an ironic exercise in skewering the bourgeouis notions of 21st century American parenthood by deconstructing the materialist ethos that has turned childhood into a demographic and rendered adults simultaneous enablers and slaves. Or something.
Blog Archive
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2006
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May
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- Back in blog
- Reading (it's fundamental)
- Slick
- Strawberry fields
- Get on the bus
- Boogie mornings
- Partly sunny, with a chance of Greg
- Secret handshake
- Happy Mother's Day!
- Samson Davis, Jr.
- Short-term memory loss
- Caption contest
- From father to son, pt. 2
- Brave, brave Sir Robin
- Gotchoo
- Nightmare
- Double-wide
- Guess who's coming to breakfast?
- On the waterfront
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May
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