"Rowan just barfed over everything. We were practically out the door. I have several meetings this morning devoted to synergizing efficiency models and building bridges toward maximizing more synergy. I made a PowerPoint and everything. You must desert America's youth and return home to your barfing son. Synergy, Dan!"
Okay, that was a liberal paraphrase.
I ended up staying for my morning classes and getting coverage for my afternoon classes. Once I returned home and the barfing child woke up from a three-hour nap, he demanded water and food. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I gave him a cracker.
Then he ate several more crackers, some apple sauce, and some toast.
Later:
That might be the worst photo of him ever taken.
No, wait a second:
That's the worst photo of him ever taken. Rather, of any baby ever taken.
Anyway, he didn't puke again, but he definitely had the mood and energy level of that gremlin Lyla's hugging. I'm staying home with him tomorrow under the assumption that he'll wake up a hot mess.
You need to compare that up-the-nose shot of you from marching band that ended up in the yearbook to that second photo of Rowan; it's essentially the same photo. ;)
ReplyDeleteOMG! I forgot about that. Like father, like son. He'll be so cool when he decides in 4th grade to be, like, the only boy in the school to play clarinet.
ReplyDeleteClarinets rule.
ReplyDeleteAnd the only reason I remember that photo was because it came from my disposable camera. How it ended up in the yearbook, I have no idea.