Ready for solids?

This morning, circa 5am, Mitt-Mitts woke up and Beloved brought him into bed with us. She lay back down in the bed with him beside her. Whereupon he reached out with both hands and grabbed her top and pulled, nay hauled, her chest in the direction of his rapacious, tooth-e-pegged maw.

Both hands! Hauled! He's not yet 5 months!

This weekend will see commencement of a few wee samples of that funny rice cereal stuff with a name like spandex, followed soon after by pulped-up pear and apple.

Meanwhile in rude grandparent land, my mother got her birthday card with kisses from 'Mitt Mitts'. She asked Beloved what that was about, was told it derived from 'Mr Mr Man', and commented that

hopefully he'll grow out of that soon.

Hope all you want just don't hope for extended visits while you're still being rude and unpleasant.