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Apr

27

Going green

The weather was positively edible yesterday, a warm lie-on-your-back-and-whinny sort of day, as if Seattle finally got some belated memo and was trying like hell to make up for its poor performance record of late. Everything was aggressively green, a rampaging Chlorophyl Gang; the sky was blue and yellow and it pumped Zoloft directly into my veins. We took up residence in the backyard and there we stayed for the majority of the day:

(Dylan’s stationed off to the side not because of noxious odor or anything — although did you know a properly steamy, stealthily-escaping-from-the-blankets babyfart can kill an adult STONE COLD DEAD? This is why you should never be fooled by their charming, squishy expressions: babies are always just waiting to kill you, either by cuteness, loudness, annoying-ness, or Dutch Oven-ness — but because Riley was throwing a ball around.)

(Also, the camera timer took this photo, although I like the notion that Dog might have.)

(PS: Do you think Dylan will be as suspicious as Riley when he gets older? It will be like living with two pint-sized CSI Miami actors.)

Spending time outside with the kids, in comparison to being cooped up for days at a time inside? No comparison, actually. Night and day. Tomayto tomahto. Dogshit sandwich, crème brûlée. Come on, SPRING.