Nic-picky

3:56, the clock read when I woke up. Sweet, I'm thinking. I get to sleep for two more hours. As most of you know, for me, this is the best feeling ever. It's the slumber equivalent of a three-day weekend.

Of course, at 4:02, Ryan starts calling. Doesn't need anything, just "awake." Wanted Mommy. Well, you're getting Daddy, how can I help you?

I was able to leave him a little before 4:30, though he wanted to know where I was going. ("Need to go water a cactus." "Oh okay.")

After my biggest accomplishment at work was deciding that Toyota's next car should be called the "Iota"*, it occurred to me on the way home that my family would like to have a picnic somewhere. So hey why not the front yard. Stopped by Shoppers Food Warehouse, filled eight bins with various sundries from hot and cold food bars, and laid out a raggedy pink painter's blanket under the tree out front where the dogs could watch from the porch.

Erin seemed to enjoy looking up at the leaves, and Ryan was able to take a break between bites to go smell the flowers blooming all over the bushes.

Some neighbors stopped to chat, while Ryan raced around with their 2-year-old. I'd never seen Ryan truly run before. It was usually a fast stomp-walk deal, but to see him really tear down the driveway... makes a Dad all proud and stuff.

*Don't buy just one!