More Irony

Well, Ryan knows what a grenade does now.

As a thank-you to the grandparents for enduring two nights of babysitting, we'd brought home a half-dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts for breakfast, which were a lovely dessert after Ainsley's cream cheese spinach mushroom mashup. After they took off, Ainsley and I opened more ironic presents, with her getting me some new fireplace tools that match our new firescreen and some padded bike shorts (to encourage my continued "Iron Man" workouts, sans the running or the swimming). I bought her a metal tin of black and grey M&M's, as well as a new organic non-jungle-wasting cutting board from the IronWood company. Dad got 'us' chocolates. We see who he favors.

After grilled tomato n cheese sandwiches and garlic pita chips on the front porch, everyone went to bed while I stretched out on the hammock to read some Air War College until my eyes got a little heavy, too. Might have been the beer. Did I mention the gorgeous weather?

Everyone was up and out by 4-ish to head to the Boivins' Annual Festival of Meat (Part I), with Mista Leo cooking up four different types of bratwursts. Unfortunately, though we had talked all the way over about 'being tough' ("Rrrr!") if Cleo barked at him, he's still deathly afraid of standing on the same floor as she.

Fortunately, Missus Boivin had invited over a friend from school who also has a 2-year-old, so a) Ryan had someone to play with and b) Cleo had someone else to chase.

After they'd had all the fun they could muster out front (with Dad dutifully schlepping Erin along on his chest), Mr. Boivin turned on the Cartoon Network for the boys to watch -- it was showing old cartoons from, I don't know, the 20s? Popeye, The Pink Panther, Tom & Jerry.

and MAN were those things violent.

Hence the grenade comment.

One can add ashtrays and shotguns to the list of 'objects not usually seen on a Wiggles DVD'.

Six Years. Hence, Tim, Hence.

I'm the luckiest fellow alive.