Just returned home from babysitting detail and had to post a photo of Sir Bubba, the Bean. When he was a tiny infant he needed to be swaddled in one of those new-fangled swaddler thingies they make now for babies (have you seen them?... they look like tiny straight jackets.) Evidently they make the baby feel like they're still inside the womb and it helps them sleep, feeling that additional security. Well, my son became quite the swaddler. He could wrap Gavin up like a bean burrito, so tight that only his head was sticking out the top, so he was nicknamed Bean Burrito the first few months of his life. Well, the "Bean" kind of stuck, so he's now called Bean, or Bubba Bean as often as he's called Gavin these days.
A pat on the back and an "atta-boy" to all you grandparents who watch your grandkids full time while your children work. It's a labor of love, for sure. Heavy on the labor, but even heavier on the love. I enjoyed every minute I spent with him but I assured him that if our 12 hours of playing "Patty-Cake" doesn't result in him remembering it the next time I see him, there will be a price to pay.
Exhaustion. Complete exhaustion tonight. But it's the kind that will have me falling asleep with a smile on my face and dreaming of a little man in Ohio who has completely stolen my heart.
I'll be back tomorrow with a food post, PROMISE!
American Baking Down the Decades, 1970-79
2 hours ago