"Did I tell you he's skooching?"

I've been gone for years. Livingston was found in a shorter time period. The Cold War? A blink! Entire civilizations have come and gone since I'd seen my boy, it seems, as when I flew home for Memorial Day, gone was the wee blob of a one-tracked mind with a two-pronged diet (the left one or the right one). Thanks to United Airlines being unable to put a simple 500-mile flight together on time ever at all ever and thinking they can buy back my loyalty with a silly $100 gift certificate with tons of restrictions not that I'm bitter at all much at all, we pulled off the road to get out of rush hour and holiday weekend traffic, popping in at a seafood restaurant. (I ordered the "Bang Bang Shrimp" which has given us a new euphemism for a full diaper.) (And by "us" I mean "me".)
And lo and behelden, Ryan gets his own seat! In a high chair! And immediately, out comes the sippy cup! With water! And Ryan starts slurping away, holding the cup his little self!
And then eating little star bits of puffed sweet potato goodness!
By himself!
and then drinking from a regular big-people glass! with big-people help.
*sniff*
No teeth yet, not crawling yet, not committed to a college football program yet, but MAN am I missing everything.
And my wife is doing such a wonderful job. Expanding his horizons, teaching him new things, brushing his hair in sexy patterns.

My little "Gummy" Bear

We had our first outing alone on Memorial Day, when I took him to ManTown (Home Depot) and Panera Bread, and he did great with me -- Ainsley says it's obvious to her that it's obvious to him that I'm his daddy. I sure hope so. I hate being "that guy in the picture."
But after flying to Dayton, and calling home to report in and ask after Bailey's mood (she's usually down in the dumps after I leave), Ainsley instead told me the heartmelting news that Ryan, while nursing in the bedroom, kept twisting his head towards the bedroom door, as if expecting the Big Fella to come walking through any second...