State Puff Marshmellow Buddy in his new winter jacket.
Close up. Displeased close up.
We spent most of the day making dinner, and had planned it early enough (5pm) that he should have been in a fine mood:
So we choked down dinner to the dulcet tones of his objection at the injustice of the high chair and life in general. The horror of eating stuffing and turkey is NOT TO BE BORNE.
On the plus side, he was asleep by 6:30pm so we watched a movie. Of course, we shudder in horror at the prospect of what Friday morning holds.
As I rocked him to sleep, I told him about last Thanksgiving where I was hugely pregnant and wondering what the next year's Thanksgiving would hold. And I told him how thankful I was to have him here, and tickled to have my holiday dinner cut short by his ability to bolster support for his anarchist agenda wherever he goes.
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