Just now at 12:30 in the afternoon Leta was sitting in the highchair stuffing cheddar cheese goldfish into her mouth, about 12 at a time. Some were in her hair, others sticking out of her ears, and Jon was on the piano pounding out a Burt Bacharach inspired tune, singing, “She likes the fish, Leta, she likes the fish.” And he was REALLY into it. Chuck, meanwhile, was darting furiously around the dining room catching fish as Leta launched them from her cheddar-slimed clutches. All of us were still in our pajamas.
Life is good.
