Like father, not at all like son

The Ninja has fought the dreaded Coxsackie and has emerged victorious. In fact, watching Finn cruise his way through hand, foot & mouth disease, something became very apparent. My son is way tougher than I am. Even though his hands, feet and face were covered in angry little "beauty spots," he was for the most part still happy, smiling and laying waste to his bottles and porridge.

If I stub my toe, I complain about it for at least a day and a half. Loudly.

But I'm a wuss. Luckily the boy didn't catch that from me. He's apparently caught his mom's grit. This is clearly great news, as I don't think the house could have handled another crying baby. I've got that role nailed.

In other "baby disease" news, Scott & Jena hosted a "get my new baby as sick as possible, please" party this past weekend in honor of their new arrival, Layla. They called it an Open House, but I think my name is more on target. The entire gang and their ever expanding brood showed up. This was both sweet and sad. Sweet because it's always nice to meet a new baby. Sad because this is my social life now. We no longer discuss how we're going to score tickets to Phish in Vegas. We now discuss formula and whether you get a price break if you buy a case.


Here's a pic of Finn and his newly enlarged baby harem. I like his odds. Unfortunately, he's staring at Layla a little too transparently.

Finn, that's not good game. We'll need to work on that.