Buddy Juice

We’re home again after a fab summer weekend in Kingston. Cakes’ taste in food is even more refined after being spoiled by her grandparents. Why eat grapes when you can eat cherries? One night there were bacon-wrapped scallops and Cakes isn’t eating shellfish yet. So her lovely grandmother put a Babybel on a stick and wrapped it in bacon for her. I wanted to eat it. Nope, she’s not spoiled at all. I had to come home and cook up some Kraft dinner for her to keep it real.

She busted her mother: she grabbed an empty bottle of gin out of the recycle box and exclaimed, “buddy juice!” Thanks babe.

She changed so much in the five days I was in Chicago. When I returned home she had peed on the potty for the first time (I was planning to postpone training until she starts pre-school in the fall). She’s starting to talk more—even using four-word sentences. She is turning somersaults!



She’s really into the swimming now:




My MIL took charge and gave Dirty Simon a bath. It was really embarrassing. The water turned this disgusting colour of grey:



But now he smells so good. And he even has a few white-ish patches.

For our final night in Kingston we had a wine tasting. Cakes’ grandparents made sure she wasn’t left out:



She joined in on the toasts. She nibbled hors’ d’oeuvres. We all watched her, awestruck.

I don’t know who had the most fun.