In the new found spirit of adventure, this Sunday Roberta and I found ourselves visiting one of my godsons. You are well on the path to being a distinguished gentleman when you are
- Shortlisted for the post of Godfather
- Actually awarded the post of Godfather
- Have been awarded said post twice now
It was quite nice seeing little Kenneth. Why? For a number of reasons, the chief one being he has the cutest smile and most importantly, he is one of those few babies that actually is a beautiful baby, a credit largely (and luckily) attributed to his mother. (J my man, I feel sure that he has your brains :))
It is said all babies look the same. This is a theory I hotly contest, using as test data the large number of babies that I have seen. Some babies are memorable and other babies are … well … you remember them.
I’m sure many of us have been in the situation where a bundle is thrust in your hand and doting parents ask you to take a look at the beautiful bundle.
You take a look at said bundle. You fight the urge to flinch. You tell yourself “Aha! Now we know who Smeagol’s parents were!” Or you might wonder if the problem is not so much the baby but the presentation. Has the baby, for instance, been presented upside down, such that you are not looking into the input ports but rather the output?
No matter what you think, if it is not positive keep it to yourself. Nothing can transform a woman from a doting mother to Darth Vader quicker than the slightest slight to her offspring. Say things like “Wow! What a beautiful baby”, even if the baby looks like a departing Peugeot 504. Trust me. You shall live longer. I know this from the fact that in my naive youth I answered “Have you seen anything prettier” strongly and emphatically in the positive, citing several examples. As a result my life expectancy is 10 years less than yours.
Sigh. You live, you learn.
But I digress. Kenneth is a beautiful baby, and his toothless smile is quite fetching. I could have spent hours playing with that young man. He laughs outrageously and happily if you know just where on his stomach to tickle. He attempts to put everything in his mouth, including his own toes and Roberta’s car keys. Quick movement on my part saved me from having the most expensive, living, breathing key holder in existence.
Ah, the innocence of youth. You are fed, clothed and carried around. Everyone fawns over you. Your tantrums are considered cute. No matter how cute you are, just try throwing a tantrum at your ripe old age now and you will find yourself laughed out of town.
As thanks to my host, and letting Chef M rise to the surface, I raided their kitchen and made a colossal mess. In my defence I turned out a very delicious Lemon Pound Cake. Half of the cake somehow found itself under my sweater and out of the house. All in the name of quality control, of course. I would have taken photos but I was too busy scheming how to steal half the cake. Mama Kenneth (suspiciously) still has cravings for pastry well after the young lad was delivered by the storks.
Piggy Corner
Yes, KM, Jade, Nakeel, Afromusing & Shiro. I know what you want. The recipe. Follow this one. Pretty accurate. Although I disagree about the vanilla bit. But hey, different strokes…
If you’re inclined to make this cake a nice tip is to grate a bit of the lemon rind and chuck that into the cake mix. Your tongue and stomach will love you but your neighbours I assure you will hate you. D.E.L.I.C.I.O.U.S. Also, some people mind the flavour of butter so you might use margarine instead. Jienjoy.
Pic Of The Day
=)) That right there is a mailbox!
Bryan McKnight – Anytime
Pingback: Pajamas Media