Monday, September 29, 2008

Come Mr. D.J. song pon de replay

Little Elvis (maybe it's me?) must have a thing for Rhianna references, huh? A couple of weeks ago I posted about his love of music and referenced her song Please Don't Stop the Music.

Today I'm referencing Pon de Replay. The titles for both songs fit this stage that he is in very well, and they are pretty fun songs.

Little Elvis still gets upset when music or a noisy toy stops.

Last week at suppertime, I made the wise decision to chant some new little ditty about pumpkins that I read in a magazine. I was not singing... and I wasn't doing such a hot job of chanting. But as soon as I stopped, Little Elvis broke out in tears.

I chanted that little rhyme 4 or 5 times, and finally just got Bob to pull out the iPod. He also got the camcorder.

The iPod takes a few seconds to shuffle between songs, and that is a few seconds too long. And it happened to choose some weird talking song. This didn't settle well for our little guy...

It's usually much more insistent, but the camcorder kind of threw him off his game.

Poor baby. I've stopped singing lullabyes before nap and bedtime.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Cat predicts Fall

It's starting to get a little chilly here in our neck of the woods. Normally, I'm all about the heat, but I am definitely ready for Fall (not Winter, just Fall.)

The leaves are changing colors -- can you tell? I guess the yellow doesn't really show up against the yellow of the house across the street.

Little Elvis is holding two leaves in this picture, but since he is also wearing yellow, they don't show up so well.

Little Elvis LOVES leaves! Luh, luh, luh, luh loves them! He has to have a leaf every time he swings. And when he fusses in his stroller, I can usually calm him down by giving him a leaf.

Although the leaves have started to change colors, it hasn't felt like Fall -- see Little Elvis' shorts?

Last week, my parents had cooler weather in Mississippi than we did (several hundreds of miles north!)

I thought Fall would never arrive.

But then last night, we witnessed the one true sign of impending cold weather in our house.

Wally snuck under the covers. Our crazy fat cat is 15-17 pounds, covered in fur, and when it's cold outside, he nestles in bed with us. He also snoozes in front of the space heater and hogs the decorative throw on the couch.

Fall is definitely here!

I don't have pictures of our crazy kitty nosing his way under the covers, but here he is after commandeering Little Elvis' dirty clothes hamper.
He always finds the strangest places to sleep.

Just to give Slappy some loving, too. She is sleeping in this picture. It looks uncomfy to me, but she was content. Her little back paws are curled, that's definitely contentment.

Monday, September 22, 2008

The goat whisperer

We had a very busy weekend. At one point, Little Elvis was surrounded by pygmy goats in a field. He happily chased and "talked" to them, and everyone (well, maybe not the goats) had a great time.

It was part of a Fall Festival at a nearby farm. He got to chase goats, go down slides, eat fresh apples, have a mean chicken peck at his sweet little finger, (we ate chicken nuggets for dinner just to spite that little pecker!) and look at real horses, cows and bunny rabbits. Little Elvis was not impressed with the Jersey (I think) cows, but he did make his cow noise at the cow cut-out in front of the real cows. And then he petted the milk cow!

He also tried to "slide" down a ramp and a grassy hill! We've been working on sitting and sliding, and he's catching on.

In keeping with the farm animal theme, here he is showing off his animal sounds.

Major digression alert!!! I cannot tell you how excited I am that Little Elvis seems to like goats. Bob has known since before we got married that I want a goat. I've always wanted one. (Well, ever since seeing Heidi when I was little.) I tell him that it will eat our grass and we'll never have to mow! I can milk it and make cheese! It will eat our trash!! He just smiles indulgently (or maybe haughtily?) at me.

Maybe with Little Elvis in my corner, I will get my goat! Obviously not right now, since we live in a fairly big city... but some day... I'll look out of my kitchen window at a super-cute goat happily chewing the grass that's not part of our huge vegetable garden -- that I just know I will plant in the future -- my goat will heh-heh-heh at me, and then turn to gobble up our non-composted garbage. My goat will not jump fences (which I've heard they do) and she will not head-butt Little Elvis. No, she will be a very cute, non-creepy, useful goat. I just know this!

Where's the lemon?

I took down one of our kitchen gates a few weeks ago, and Little Elvis loves the new freedom of wondering into the kitchen any time he wants. He loves pulling all of the contents in his drawer out, pulling the snack foods out of our step stool, climbing on the step stool so he can pull stuff off the cabinets, pulling apples out of the fruit/veggie bin... You get the picture, he loves making a mess.
This week he's been pulling all of the magnets off of it and scattering them around the house. While that's fun, it's a whole lot more fun to commandeer the fridge once it's opened.
He plants his sturdy little body right inside the door so it won't close. He's hard to move even if my hands aren't full or contaminated.
Little Elvis likes to pull as many bottles out of the door as possible -- Italian dressing, Worcestershire sauce, BBQ sauce, jelly, ketchup, mustard and the lemon juice lemon.

Most of the bottles he leaves in the kitchen, but the lemon he takes with him all over the house. He won't let go of it until he finds something equally or more interesting -- say a headband or the alarm clock.

Sometimes at night, Bob will find the lemon in the strangest places, like the bathroom or closet.

Yesterday, Little Elvis was playing with the lemon when it suddenly disappeared. I couldn't find it, and mentioned it to Bob when he got home. We figured one of us would stumble upon it before we put Little Elvis down for the night.

After he'd been asleep for about an hour, it dawned on me that we still hadn't found the lemon. We checked under beds, dressers, chairs, in drawers, garbage cans, just about any and every place imaginable. But we couldn't find the lemon.

Maybe it was in his bedroom? I checked this morning. That lemon was no where to be found.

Bob decided, just for the fun of it, to look in the fridge. And there it was, nestled between the ketchup and jelly.

Most likely I am the one who put the lemon there. I cannot for the life of me remember doing this.

So, yes, we spent our Sunday night searching for a lemon that wasn't lost. Hope your Sunday night was just as exciting.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Lovey at first sight?

As a child I always had a favorite toy that I took everywhere with me. My mom tells me that I loved Curious George, but I don't remember liking him all that much. (I loved mine to pieces and they gave me my cousin's doll. I must have known they were different on some level.)

I had a doll called a La Baby when I was in the second grade. I named her Cindy and she looked like a real sleeping baby. I carried her everywhere with me. Then I got my Cabbage Patch Kid Albert Bruno. He was a lefty and had two teeth. He also wanted to be a ballerina.

I moved from him to a big stuffed polar bear that I (very creatively) named Snowy. Snowy still lives with us. I didn't take him to college, but he's moved everywhere else with me. He's keeping company with Little Elvis' toys now.

As someone who obviously built strong connections with her toys, I wanted Little Elvis to do the same. I wanted him to have a lovey that he would love to pieces and that I would have to sneak out of the crib at night to secretly wash. I've romanticized this, and I'm sure moms who have to deal with this would tell me I do NOT want such an attachment.

Little Elvis has two soft bears and a blue blanket that he sleeps with every night. The bears are super squishy and smallish, and the blanket is a winter blanket. This summer, I tried covering him with a lighter blanket, but left his fuzzy blue blanket on the side of the crib. It's always in there with him when he wakes up.

He sometimes takes the bears out of the crib with him, but they are dropped like a bad habit the second he sees something more interesting.

This weekend, something changed.

Little Elvis and I did a baby consignment sale by ourselves. You can't use a stroller in these sales, and I knew I wasn't going to brave the harness in a place that would have toys and games laid out along the floor.

On Saturday morning, I parked way out in the boonies, and strapped my 30 pound boy in the hip sling that has been collecting cobwebs for months.

I told him that if he was nice, I would buy him a present. After he waited an interminable amount of time for me to get him some new shoes, we headed to the toy table. I spied a cute teddy bear dressed as a football player and showed it to him, but he had no time for it. His eyes were glued to something else.

Little Elvis was pointing to a big, red dog. My son spotted Clifford and it was love at first sight. He squeezed that big stuffed animal between the two of us and hugged and licked (yes) on it.
Once we got home, I decided to throw caution to the wind and take us to the neighborhood celebration. It was hot. He had to take Clifford in his stroller. He hugged that big red dog during the entire walk in the 90-plus degree heat.

He hugged that hot dog while crying when each bad karaoke singer stopped singing. He hugged that dog while Mommy sang during the entire uphill walk home. (Maybe not entire, but it felt like it.)
He took it with him to nursery at the church.
My son had found his lovey!

At least for the weekend... He hasn't given Clifford much lovin' since Sunday. Bob and I will bring Clifford out and Little Elvis will hug on him and tackle him. Then he'll run to his cars, or his blocks, or his books, or the kitchen, leaving poor old Clifford by himself.

It was a sweet weekend, though!

Bah-ha-ha-ha! Rehhhh!

Little Elvis still isn't all that interested in saying many human words, but he has started making his own version of sheep and elephant sounds.

At first, we weren't sure why he was doing his fake laugh every time he heard the word 'lamb' or saw a sheep. Then it dawned on us, he's doing his own version of baaah!

He's been doing the fake laugh for a while now. Whenever he hears us or someone else laugh, he wants to be in on the joke, so he fake laughs. That usually makes us laugh with him, and he'll bust out the real giggle.

I'm not sure when he decided his fake laugh sounded like a sheep, but it sort of does!

As for elephants, I can't do that noise. But Bob does a decent elephant. (I can't spell elephant talk either. Pretty sure it's not rehhh, but that was the best I could come up with!)

Little Elvis will now do a pretty good imitation of Bob's elephant when he sees an elephant in a book, or sees his little elephant bath toy.

Little Elvis has also made up his own version of sign language for some things -- Bob and I were terrible about the sign language. We were very uneven in the words we signed, and in our use of them. We dropped it after about a month of confusing ourselves and Little Elvis.

He won't say 'eat' or 'hungry' or 'food', but if he's hungry, he will go stand by his booster seat and whine until I come and ask him if he's hungry.

If he's tired and I ask him about a nap, he will sometimes run to his bedroom door and wait for me to open it. Then he will stand in front of the rocking chair waiting for me rock him and read to him.

Sometimes I wonder if Little Elvis is saying more words, and Bob and I are just too literal to realize it. We expect the words to sound a certain way.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Redeeming qualities

I've been negative on a few things lately. But those things aren't ALL bad.

My neighborhood does have some redeeming qualities. Not only are there several parks within walking distance that Little Elvis usually gets all to himself, our next door neighbors are pretty cool -- especially in the eyes of a toddler who loves vehicles.

In Little Elvis' world, all cars are cool, but the bigger the car, the better. And one of our next-door neighbors drives a school bus!! How much bigger can you get?

She parks it in front of her house between her morning and afternoon runs. I mentioned Little Elvis' love of all things automotive to her last week, and yesterday she invited him over to play on the bus!

My little guy had a blast running up and down the aisle!

So, not everyone in this neighborhood is awful. Our neighbor's son is also sweet, but at 10 or 11, a little too old to really enjoy playing with Little Elvis.

And, Pampers kindly sent me a replacement code for the outdated ones. Thanks to Laura for the suggestion of writing them!

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Whatever the weather

Bob had a big weekend. Not only did he track Hurricane Ike on late Friday night/early Saturday morning (from home!), he also performed at Launchfest - NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center's open house - most of the day on Saturday.

For those of you who don't know, Bob is a children's entertainer in his spare time and has written a CD of children's weather songs. You can hear snippets of them all at his website --

We've shot two music videos for those songs that I've put up recently -- you can find links to those on my right nav, or you can visit his youtube page.

I plan on adding more stuff to that page now that things are settling down here. And we have a new music video in the works!

This is a video of him performing a song he wrote about impending fatherhood and performed for me the week before Little Elvis arrived. I've been trying to organize our sites, and realized that I had never put this song up. It's funny and sweet. Hope you guys like it!

Oh, and we have been working on something new for Bob's website. I'm hoping to debut part of it in the next couple of months! It'll be more in line with the stuff I actually wanted to produce when I worked in news.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

We (don't) want you!

I am not much of a joiner. I don't always have to have a place to be, and I don't have to be surrounded by others. That's not me.

There are certain times when I do want to be out doing things, but I am perfectly happy to be home playing and reading and exploring (and cleaning and cooking) with Little Elvis.

This is NOT common where we live -- at least not among the mommy set.

I kind of knew this, but it became very clear this week as Little Elvis and I attended the first get-together of the new Moms group I just joined.

The moms were nice, but they were all shocked that my son was 19 months old and I had only now joined this group. Most of them assumed I had just moved to the area, I'm sure my southern accent helped with that assumption. When I told them we had been in the area for more than 2 years, their mouths kind of hung open... Wha?

They couldn't believe I was a stay-at-home mom who was only now joining a mom's group. I told them that my neighborhood had a Mom's group, but it wasn't active, so I decided to find a more active one.

In admitting that I'm not a joiner, I don't want you to think Little Elvis and I spend our days lollygagging around the house snacking on York Peppermint Patties and sipping Canada Dry. We do stuff. We walk to one park in our area at least twice a day. We play at the mall, we run errands, we go to the post office, we try to participate in the library's story time, he goes to the nursery at church. We DO stuff.

But I try very hard not to pay to DO stuff. We have a playroom full of toys, books and assorted objects that he has loved at one time or other (just about every empty lotion bottle, an aspirator, you know, stuff.) We have a backyard with a playset, two cars, and a little pool, the front yard has the swing and the driveway has our real cars. We can easily entertain ourselves with these amenities, and the parks in our area.

That isn't enough here. Most of the moms in the neighborhood belong to several different clubs and playgroups. They sign their toddlers and infants up for all sorts of different lessons. And, of course, many also belong to some co-op child care service so that mommy can get her "me" time.

Despite many efforts to try and find some interested mom in our area, I couldn't. I tried to set up different playdates, had a very poorly attended playgroup, tried to find a mom that might want to walk with us to parks (or anywhere), etc.

Not only did the moms not respond to my attempts to find social interaction for my baby, but a couple of weeks ago it became apparent that Little Elvis and I were the playground pariahs in our neighborhood.

We were at his favorite park. It's the most run down, but it's shady and it faces the street so he can watch the cars, vans, trucks, buses and UPS trucks drive by while he swings. He really loves this park.

One of the moms was heading in our direction with her two sons when she saw us, and -- I kid you not -- turned and went the other way. I have no idea what I did to her. If it was just me, I'd shrug my shoulders and pretend I didn't care. But since Little Elvis is involved, it's different.

After realizing that I wasn't going to find us a group to hang out with in our neighborhood, I finally caved and paid to be part of this new group.

I've been dwelling and dwelling on all of this for weeks. I will write a post full of venom, and then delete it. I am extremely lonely here. I would love to have friends to talk to, I need the comraderie as much as my son. But I'm not sure where to find it.

Wednesday, September 10, 2008

Please don't stop the music

Rhianna and Little Elvis have something in common -- they don't want the music to stop.

For a while now, Little Elvis has cried when I stopped singing lullabyes to him. So much that I stopped singing songs to him at bedtime. He cries when some of his noisy toys that are difficult to turn on stop as well. And if the Happy Monster Band stops singing, well... you get the picture.

Little Elvis was a little tooncey (my mom's word and it fits many of my moods, as well as Little Elvis' moods) at the start of story time this week.

He sat on the floor by me, kind of in the circle of other kids, and showed me the mats and books on the floor.

At the start of the activities, we sing a welcome song to all of the kids. When it stopped, Little Elvis began bawling. I stood up with him and took him to the back of the room to calm him down.

They read a story, and by the end of it, we were back on the floor near the circle. We began to sing another song, and I inched us closer to the group.

Then the song ended... and the crying began. Crying isn't the right word. He immediately turns red in the face, makes his really sad (kind of funny and cute) face and the tears start pouring out of the closed eyes.

I explained to the group that he sometimes cries when songs end, and stood up to leave. But the leader said we could just sing more songs.

They sang the ABC's. Once we got to "next time, won't you sing with me" Little Elvis bawled. I, again, stood to leave.

But the leader wouldn't let me. We sang for about 10 more minutes. At the end of each song, Little Elvis would bawl and I would try to leave. I wanted to leave. He most likely wanted to leave as well. But that leader was new, and I think she just wanted to end the "story" time as quickly as possible.

All of the other mothers seemed shocked. They just gave me that look. The look that said, "Thank God that isn't my child."

I hate that look, although I'm sure I've probably given it.

What frustrates me even more is that I cared. I know what a good boy Little Elvis is. He just doesn't seem to like this library. To be honest, I'm not a big fan myself, but it's in the neighborhood.

And it's kind of cute that my son sometimes cries when songs stop playing, right? I think it is. I think it's funny that he loves songs that much.

I know he needs to learn the skill of sitting in a group, but I'm not so sure I should try to teach him at this library or with this group. We've gone several times and he's had issues just about every time. There's another one that's only a couple of miles away, and it's by a fun park. I might give that one a try instead.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

How we turn a frown upside down

A couple of months ago, Bob found a Sesame Street First Steps computer game in the dollar bin at some electronics store.
It was definitely worth the money.
Sometimes Little Elvis wakes up on the wrong side of the crib after a nap.

But if Mommy lets him play Peekaboo with Elmo, Zoe and Big Bird...
he's all smiles for the rest of the day.
P.S. He took off my "C" key! Bob was able to get it back on. Still worth the smiles.

Monday, September 08, 2008

Tuesday Tirade: Who knew diapers expired?

Warning: I'm ranting. I feel the need to warn you guys that Pampers Gifts to Grow points expire.

This probably doesn't sound like a big deal. But it's ticking me off.

1. Pampers are getting more and more expensive.
2. It took me forever to actually find these little points that they hide in their packaging.
3. The amount of points you get per item is ridiculously low. (they give you partial points, like .5 and .33)
4. And now I find out that they expire!

When we found out that Pampers were changing their packaging, along with Huggies, so they could give you less for the same price, we stocked up. We used the Target Deals and coupons to the best of our ability and had Little Elvis' closet and the space under his crib chock full of Pampers and Huggies.

The boxes we bought first were on the bottom. We've been steadily working our way down to those boxes. Last week, I popped open the biggest box of Pampers we had and took off all the little codes.

I entered those ridiculously long codes, only to find out they weren't valid. I checked the box, and they expired in March!

For some reason, that makes me very mad! Diapers don't expire. And they act like they're giving me such a great deal with their paltry points anyway.

So, I'm angry. And I wanted to warn others that Pampers Gifts to Grow points don't last. Grr.

Tomorrow, I will be back to my normal Little Elvis lovin' -- I took some super adorable pictures of him playing on the computer.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Look, but don't touch, don't touch, don't touch!!

Little Elvis loves cars. I'm not sure if I've ever waxed poetic about this love, but it runs deep. And I'm not talking about toy cars (those are ok) or the little car thing he drives in his carseat (it's ok, most of the time), no I'm talking about real cars. My son hearts real cars.

When we head outside to play, we have to make several trips around each car before swinging or sliding.

Here he is inspecting the grill of one of our cars.

Once we took him to a playground and he spent more time -- and had more fun!-- in the parking lot.

He walks around them, studies the tires, hits on the doors, points out the letters and numbers on the license plates and the car names. He pokes at the grills and all sorts of things.

I can tell him what most of the things he points at are, but I've started saying, "thing." I tried "I don't know" and that upset him.

Bob had the brilliant idea last week to take our little car enthusiast to a fancy car show. You know the ones where people park their hot rods in front of some store on the weekend? Here they do it on a Friday night at Chick-Fil-A. (Wow, do I write about that place a lot.)

We decided to take Little Elvis to see the cars after we did our weekly shopping trip.

And he had the best time running around the cars and looking at the tires, grills, and things! But no one came over. I figured they would, but they all stayed away... and stared.

So we kept looking at cars and guessing their makes and years. Little Elvis was in Heaven. We didn't bring the camera, but trust me, the grin was huge and the dimples were deep.

After running around several cars, he headed for some souped up old blue-ish purple car and this man starts running at us yelling, "Don't touch! Don't touch! Don't TOUCH!"

I looked at Bob and said, "We weren't supposed to be touching?"

Bob shrugged. And we steered Little Elvis away from that car, instead leading him back to the regular cars in the parking lot. He was just as happy walking around our dirty 7-year-old car anyway.

There's a lesson to be learned here -- you aren't supposed to touch these cars. I'm not sure why, the cars are out for everyone to look at, you have to touch the car to get into it, and these guys probably wax those things everyday. Obviously, I know nothing about this culture.

We won't take Little Elvis back to that fancy car night. Instead, we're thinking of taking him to a car dealership next. They will let him touch the cars... right?

Wednesday, September 03, 2008

Back to normal

Bob's home! He got back from New Orleans around midnight Tuesday night. We were all ready for him to be back home.

We are very lucky in that Bob is a very involved father. He loves spending time with Little Elvis, but does more than just play with him. He's a big help in taking care of our son. And I've always appreciated that.

Without that help and support, it was a lot harder. Even though we spend most of our days by ourselves, I was worried about how we would handle being alone.

I know many women and men do this, and with more children. But this was our first experience with it, and I think it was an experience on steroids.

Because coupled with the fact that Little Elvis and I were all by our lonesome, my husband was sitting in a hotel in New Orleans waiting for Hurricane Gustav. I spent lots of time alternately worried about and angry with Bob. Sometimes when he called, I would just sit and not talk. I couldn't. It was too much.

I've also been fighting off a sinus infection for about a week. It's not morphed into a complete infection yet, but I've had bloody noses and spent most of Monday morning with a headache that radiated from my forehead down to my neck.

One last problem is that we are not near family, and my repeated attempts to make friends in my neighborhood have, well, they haven't panned out. So, I didn't have anyone to turn to either.

Still, with all of these things going on, Little Elvis and I did very well.

We only had one "bad" day, and that was Monday. Little Elvis knew that something wasn't right, but he couldn't put his finger on it. And I think I was getting on his nerves.

At lunch I had the audacity to offer him the rest of the banana he didn't eat at breakfast. My child usually loves bananas. Not then. He screamed and gave it the push away. Great. I got him some pear slices. These were even more insulting, and I won't even go into the outrage that his glass of milk caused. It was bad. He ended up eating about three pieces of macaroni and cheese from my plate, because it always tastes better from someone else's plate.

If only Mommy would always feed me cupcakes, then I wouldn't fuss at mealtimes!

Then, my obviously exhausted child refused to nap. After an hour of crying, mixed with my attempts to calm him down, I gave up. And was mad! I plucked him out of the crib, put him on the floor and asked him if he was happy. He was. Then I went around the house slamming drawers and fussing (at Bob who wasn't there.) Little Elvis just followed me trying to get me to hug him.

After that we went shopping and to Chick-Fil-A, and were a happy (slightly matchy-matchy) duo again.Sometimes my mommy dresses me in super cute outfits that don't match what she's wearing.

Until bath time. Bob called to sing Little Elvis his bathtub song. I think that's when he realized what was wrong. He could hear Daddy, but couldn't see him. He just sat in the tub bawling. Bob wanted to know what I had done. I told him it wasn't me, his son missed him. That wasn't fun for any of us.

Bob got up with Little Elvis the next morning, so I didn't get to witness the reunion of my two men, but I'm pretty sure it was a happy one.

Tuesday, September 02, 2008

What I did for free chicken...

I did something many women would consider horrid yesterday. What did I do? I dressed myself and Little Elvis in matching outfits... kind of.

Now before you hit the comment button to tell me how tacky that is, let me explain myself!

Chick-fil-A gave out free chicken strips to people who came in dressed in football team paraphernalia yesterday. And I'm not one to balk at free food from Chick-fil-A, remember the homemade cow costumes?

I'm a Mississippi State fan through and through. I have two T-shirts and a windbreaker to prove my allegiance. And, being my son, Little Elvis has an MSU onesie.

One of the t-shirts is grey. I got while in college. I sleep in it now. The other shirt is maroon and is actually a step above a T-shirt. My parents got it for me a few years ago. It's nicer, so I wore it.

Little Elvis' onesie is also maroon.

I realized this as I put him in it, but we both needed to get out of the house. (Both of us had meltdowns yesterday afternoon and we needed to get out of the house and be around other people.) Plus, my shirt had "DAWGS" written on it, and his had the cascading MSU. I told myself they weren't exactly alike, and no one would even notice.

So, we left to go shopping dressed as alike as a mom and toddler son could probably dress. It wasn't even a game day. I could probably have gotten away with this on a Saturday... in Mississippi.

While at TJ Maxx, the woman in front of us told Little Elvis that he matched his mom. She then gave me a clipped smile. Judgmental rude woman.

I told her that we were getting free chicken strips at Chick-fil-A. She then started to tell me with a pitying look that they were closed on Sundays. (Insert much more appropriate term for her here.) Too bad it was a Monday. Ha! Once she realized that she turned back to the counter and left us alone.

We got our free chicken strips and Little Elvis devoured all three of his. I tried to tear one apart for him, but he would have none of it. So I had to switch his torn one with one of my whole ones.

The things I will do for free chicken.

The good news is since Bob is still in New Orleans, there is no photographic evidence of this fashion faux pas.