Hope you all had a lovely St. Patrick’s Day weekend and celebrated appropriately with your green attire and green beer.
|And a top o' the mornin' to you, sir!|
In line at the shoe store, I saw a lady quite festively dressed head to toe in several shades of green: green dress, green tights, green deadly high heels (with polka dots), green bag, green scarf (even though it was 70 degrees), and green earrings. She had even dyed her blonde hair with green streaks. I sure hope she was on her way to a party…
Our St. Paddy’s (not “Patty’s”) Day was a little tamer. We wore our green shirts… and that’s it. Maybe next year I’ll go all out with the shamrock-shaped pancakes and a scavenger hunt for a pot of gold. But this year for our oblivious two year old, a green shirt was just fine.
The day started at the park where Quinn loves to run all over the basketball court. Every time, he asks me to lift him up so he can make a basket, and every time I have to tell him that Mommy is too short to lift him high enough. (With my 5’1” stature, I never did make a formidable tetherball opponent.)
But luck was on our side this St. Paddy’s Day, and we ran into our 7-foot-tall friend, Meier, at the park with his two sons. He had no problem lifting Quinn high enough to make some shots! Q’s smile was almost as big as Meier.
After Quinn’s nap, we played some more basketball in the backyard on his little hoop, although I’m thinking it might be time to raise it up a notch or two.
At Q’s two-year check up last week, we learned that he’s in the ninetieth percentile for height, so most likely he’ll be tall like his daddy. He’s only in the tenth- to twenty-fifth percentile for weight, but at least he’s maintaining. He’s tall and skinny, just like a real basketball player.