The Flying Baileys
Because Most Days, We Are A Three-Ring Circus
Sunday, May 20, 2007
An Ecstacy of Mush
Spoon, fist, finger--once you get to a certain point, it is all the same. He was in heaven. After the first bite, he was more anxious than a nest of robin chicks after a regurgitated worm. I don't think he'll be quite as picky as his brother.
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