That’s what baby said.
Little cutie in a onesie mom bought that’s too big. You know why? Because I wanted him to wear it for longer.
A slight oversize (6 months) for his 2 & a half frame so mom could milk the onesie for all its worth (not much). In my defense, the kid can comfortably wear 3-6 month outfits so a 6 monther really ain’t that bad.
In honor of Friday the 13th, I ate in a dark room my mother-in-law’s stewed pig’s feet. Baby was sleeping so thus the darkness.
Pig’s feet in black vinegar with ginger & egg is one my favorite childhood dishes. Being exposed to it now, I might think twice about digging in. Nah, I’d love it still. I cannot tell a lie.
It’s the kind of dish where you have utensils but tastes better eaten with your hands. You can slurp the bone marrow.
Please get your rice to pig feet ratio right or else you’ll be sorry.
Of course as soon as I’m double hands deep in the black sauce, baby cries. Because he isn’t the only one hungry.
I pick him up and do the hand solo.
Don’t worry I didn’t starve my child but he ate five minutes later then when he clearly preferred to.
Now I want dessert & am hoping someone comes up with a crepe delivery service soon. Sigh.
