Gussied up

Our friend Mark travels quite frequently for his job. Recently he was gone for nearly two and a half weeks, which among other things, meant that Caleb spent two and a half weeks with Bridgette, Mark's wife, and myself. And Owen of course, but he doesn't talk yet so we won't count him. We tried to be considerate, but no doubt Caleb endured his fair share of Oprah, girlie magazines, and long in depth discussions about whether a fabric softener is really needed or not. This was made apparent last night during dinner. We were all sitting around the table commenting on the new dish we'd made that night, pork roast with pears. While Mark sat on the floor playing with Owen, Bridgette and Caleb and I discussed ways we could improve the recipe. "Well," Caleb said, "I think it would be great if there was some kind of pear glaze to pour on top." Mmmm, Yes, Wow, Bridgette and I agreed. We sat there for a few seconds contemplating that until Caleb put down his fork and groaned, "Mark! I need you here! Look at me!"

And while we were all giggling, it was true. Caleb had been all girlied-up. Whether he liked it or not. (And he's going to hate that I've announced it to you all, but I swear he's a manly man. He kills the spiders for me, takes the garbage out, and installs a new tail light cover on my car when I sometimes maybe accidentally pop it off. With a white picket fence. And stuff. Woops...)