Last Saturday was gorgeous. I got some long-overdue yard work done, including mowing the lawn with our rusty, old reel mower ("Sally"). In these complicated times, I find it really satisfying to do some things the old-fashioned way, and the hard-earned whirr of a good, old push-mower hearkens back to simpler times.
Once the yard was cleaned up and the sun was safely behind the maple tree, I brought Zephyr out on a blanket to enjoy some fresh air. He was at the edge of the blanket and immediately began to stuff handfuls of freshly-mown lawn (ahem, weeds) into his eager baby maw. I wouldn't really mind, since everything growing back there is technically edible, but I've watched one too many episodes of Monsters Inside Me and am terrified of Zeph ingesting those brain-eating roundworms that live in raccoon feces. You think I'm being paranoid, but one end of our little pond is actually a midden site for the neighborhood raccoons (I've seen the scat!), and I stupidly watched that whole episode twice (for fuck's sake, it infected a baby boy!) and goddammit some things you just can't unsee. Unfortunately, Scott and I were too busy tag-teaming Operation No, Boosh, No to get a photo, but I have a feeling this won't be the last time we scramble to pull something horrible out of his mouth.
Hey, it turns out that Zephyr is a huge Simon and Garfunkel fan. He is awesome at singing along, and damn, this kid has some motherfucking soul. Here he is singing with all his gusto:
...and here's some general goofing-off and merriment with his old man. If you listen carefully, you can hear him telling his "joke" (the part where he emits a high-pitched gurgle). He always busts this out for a laugh.
And for those keeping score, yes, his pooping is completely back to normal.