Earlier this week we got the enthusiastically awaited greenlight for rice cereal.
I tasted it. Complex? No. But I suppose that’s the point.
My first word, I am told, was “papa.” That used to embarrass me. Because by “papa,” I didn’t, sweetly, mean “dad.”
“Papa” was sort of a catchall for “food.”
Anyway, Alice wasn’t over-the-moon thrilled with her mush. And it turns out spoons are tricky when one’s experience is so limited. But she seemed interested and, I would say, willing to try some more.
People have been telling us how cereal would knock Alice into a night of long and peaceful sleep.
She was as wound up as she’s ever been after eating that stuff. But very charming, funny and full of the polite conversation we thought was gone forever.
So that’s all right.
P.S. Belated congrats to cousins Grace, Jeff and little Victor on a baby boy-to-be! I love what’s between and among my brothers and me. But what Anthony and Mark are together is superlative. They say twins speak in special, secret languages. I don’t know if it’s true, but it’s what I hear. What I know is that my brothers share their own radio frequency. Joyful and hilarious and strong. So, welcome, New Baby. Brothers is the gift that’s waiting for you here. And brothers is the gift you already are. Can’t wait to meet you!