The Babies Like the Bandwidth
March 07, 2006
The purpose of this post is simply to give you some goddamn baby pictures already. Because you asked. Repeatedly. Yes, you personally, because when I address my readers as YOU, I am not referring to a diverse mass of far-flung individuals, but am instead reaching out through the Internet to YOU THERE, AT THE COMPUTER, IN THE TIN FOIL HAT.
YOUR DOG SAYS TO SEND ME MONEY.
Noah is five months old now.
He is officially aware of Coach's superior materials and workmanship.
He lets you know when he wants a hug, and will return the favor with gusto.
His hair is mostly blond, with just the faintest hint of red.
His eyes continue to baffle us, because they're looking sort of green.
He never, ever stops talking. Or making the turtle face.
He finds me pretty amusing, but not nearly as funny as the dog, who is the funniest thing in the entire damn world and also fun to suck on.
People are finally starting to say he looks like me.
Which: please. I have never been this cute in my entire life.
And here's where I will be extremely self-indulgent and post a video of Noah's wicked new babbling skillz. Which I have never done before and frankly, have no idea if this will completely crash the site, finally alert Typepad to my egregious bandwidth overages, kill us all in a hot molten death, or simply be kind of annoying and stupid.
Anyway, if you are here and do not see this entry, it is probably the video's fault.
(I swear to God, we really do take him out of the exersaucer occasionally.)
(I mean really, he's also got a perfectly nice kennel.)