Rick ventured out to get a haircut the other day. Nothing exciting. He was really shaggy and in terrible need of a trim. Upon returning home from the barber shop a whole three blocks away he noticed that he had lost a glove. "Oh, I must have dropped my glove on the way back home." He says as he's unbuttoning his coat. My reply? "We'll get your butt back out there and find it. It can't be more than three blocks away right? I just mended the hole in that pair of gloves. And it's really my glove anyway!" So he rebuttoned his coat, but not before enlisting Ada, in her pajamas still mind you, to join him. In her kitten hat and retro jacket, complete with footie pajamas, she ventured a whole 50 feet from the house before they found the glove. They made a loop around the block just to make it worthwhile. Upon returning home with said glove in hand, Rick explained how they made the walk even more exciting by moving Ada up to ride on his shoulders --something he's been looking forward to since the Summer I was pregnant. He said Ada did well until about 20 feet from home when she decided it would be fun to start bouncing. They will be sure to perfect their technique in the weeks to come.
Moral of the story: You don't know how much you miss your footie pajamas until you have a baby. Then you miss them constantly and can only wish for the good old days.
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