I am sitting here typing this as my newly minted-six-month-old-daughter nurses frantically on my cheech (singular for che-che). This morning Brakes and I got a gander to change things up a bit on poor Eloise. We decided that it is time to start solids. As she looks like me, talks like me, laughs like me, etc. I could only assume that she would eat like me as well. Ummm... not so much.
After extensive research we chose avocado as her first food. It has great nutritional value and it is easy to digest. Plus Brakes and I adore us some guacamole, so we figured it was a safe bet for Weezy's first food. So at 10:00 this morning I mashed up some avocado and shot some Mama Juice into it, while Brakes manned the blender and made us some celebratory 1/2 birthday margaritas (what is guac without a rita?). I am just kidding about the margaritas. Just kidding on the just kidding. Anyways.
We sat Weezy in her highchair, popped on my favorite vintage bib, and set the camera to flash. I rammed my green-slime laden index finger into her unsuspecting mouth. She froze, looked from me to Brakes, took a deep breath through her nose, and then gagged. After the huge gag she shuddered and her eyes accused us of awful deeds. I valiantly kept trying for another 10 minutes or so when her watery eyes, running nose, and panicked expression convinced me to stop.
Through this whole ordeal Brakes sat back and watched. At the end, as we were mopping up regurgitated avocado, Brakes told Eloise, "Maybe you take after me after all; your Mov never met a dish of food she didn't like."
I think he might be right. Brakes is a boob-man too.
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