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big happy family my arse

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Last night, took the baby with me to a work outing, to a real restaurant. The baby spend the first hour being shy and playing cute, attached himself to mommy, hid his face in my neck when being talked to, and refused to use his own chubby legs. After the warm up, and being sat in a real chair and at real dinner table, and had lentil soup which he pronounced good, he became more of himself. He started off by pointing and saying gaga, his way of asking what is that. Of course the pointing gets erratic, and that was when I knew he was ready for play time. We were sat at courtyard, and the weather was perfect. Of course it would be a lot more years before the baby would appreciate the nice surroundings more than the little rocks that they used instead of concrete to top the yard. He somehow got the attention of the daddy sitting at the next table, and just tried his best to hold onto the attention. Anyway, when the game of picking rocks off the ground graduate to throwing, I decided we had to go before it got really bad.

I missed most of the dinner conversation, which I think had equal parts of work, economy, Europe and guns. Anyway, it was nice to be out eating at a real restaurant again, even if the baby fed mommy food and managed to drop more stuff on my dress than got it into my mouth.