August 07, 2007

Shake Your Groove Thing, Hold the Herb

Ainsley had to help out a friend today, so Ryan played at his neighbor's house all afternoon, that is, right through his nap. After running around the house like a truck on fire for a bit, he started to crash hard sitting on my lap at the computer, so I took him upstairs to splash some water on his privates.
Since it was bath night anyway.
That woke him up long enough to stay awake through dinner, but after small protests and a few minutes stroking my face (he's recently discovered my five o'clock shadow), he was out like a light in the off position by 7:05. Last time he went to bed this early (when I went to West Point), he woke up again from 10 to past midnight. We'll see how he does. It was just so weird to walk around the house, getting chores done, instead of sticking around in his room all night.
Conversely, he woke up a little early this morning, about quarter to seven. (I was sleeping in due to a mid-morning medical appt.) So he was on the couch eating a banana by the time I came down in uniform, but I was still whispering to Ainsley in the kitchen. Habit.

My son wanted a peach this afternoon. Sitting in a bowl on the kitchen island, a yellow/orange fuzzy ball of citrusness was calling to him.
Unfortunately, if I've ever had a peach in my life, it was a) sometime in the 1970s and b) in a can with Del Monte on the side. Neither round nor furry. With Ainsley unavailable, I called my sister-in-law in Washington. As one does. That's what sisters-in-law are for. It's a federal statute.
"Hello?"
"Hi. How do you eat a peach?"
Apparently you wash the fuzz off, get some angry little gross red brain of a seed out of the middle, and cut it into slices and then bite-sized pieces (the gooey peach part, not the seed, which would require TNT).
An alternate method, someone cute told me later, is to just eat it straight, like an apple. Though I have no digital photos of my son doing that, so it must not ever happen.
We tend to photograph everything.

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