I am a Daddy

It's official. No, no, not biologically. I mean, I already knew that. I've got that paperwork here somewhere and the IRS is savvy.

I just mean that we have crossed the final "da-da" threshold, and Erin has found her eeee. Like Ryan still does, she sometimes calls me "Mommy" first, then realizes she's not getting anywhere and switches to "Da-dee?"

We've also determined that we should keep her away from nuns or social workers if she ever sees a frog, since when she says it it sounds like a different four-letter word beginning with f.

Not to be outdone in the cute department, the other night Ryan was flirting up a storm with a waitress at Uno's. Winkin' at her....smiling....eating everything on his plate....being bold enough to even say "I think you're cute!"
However, he might have blown any chance at a future prom date later in the evening; I had to pop next door to buy something so Ryan, Erin, and Ainsley hung around out front, but soon went back inside.

Waitress: "Did you come back to see me??"
Ryan (loud and proud): "Nope, I gotta go poop in the potty!"