All We Are Saying is Give Peas a Chance . . .

The weekend was a good one. Saturday Guster made his first trip to the Minneapolis Farmer's Market on Lyndale Avenue (his previous trips were all to the Mill City Market). Gus seemed to like it -- and Dad did too. By the way, if you think that 7:30 a.m. is too early for a fully loaded bratwurst, you got another thing coming.

Sunday the family was supposed to head to Plymouth to celebrate the baptism of JoAnna and Andy's baby, Noah. But Noah was running a fever on Saturday night and Sunday morning, and because the Gus Man was recently fighting a cold of his own, and out of an abundance of caution, Dad and Gus stayed home, while Mom attended the festivities. The G-Man and Dad wore each other out playing and reading The Poky Puppy, and Gus announced that it was time for a nap. Gus took a short snooze before signaling that it was then time to eat. Dad had neglected to ready the bottle in advance, so had to scramble to heat the water, and, in the meantime divert Gus' attention. Much to Gus' chagrin, Dad had the brilliant idea of strapping the baby in the Bjorn and heading for a lap around the block. Gus hated this idea, and told me all the reasons why while I was busy bundling him into his hoodie. But Dad listened about as well as the President listened to the Baker-Hamilton report, and we ventured out into the cold, October mist. Back inside, Guster went to work on the bottle, and Dad took the opportunity to take a peek at the pregame for the Vikings-Bears match-up. But alas, Gus was quickly through, and since Emily and I have recognized that we are hopelessly addicted to t.v. (God bless the DVR), we are trying to lead Gus away from the pitfalls of the rot-box -- so once Gus was done, and turned his head towards the big black box, it was time to turn it off and head upstairs for some more playtime.

Gus and I had a good time playing for about an hour and a half, but then a little man's barking told me that he would like to take another nap. As he quickly fell asleep on my shoulder, I snuck back downstairs with him and flipped on the game. Guster stayed asleep for the duration, and the Vikings won (barely). Good stuff.

After a trip to the grocery store, it was time to continue our out of a jar gastronomical education. Sweet potatoes? In the rear-view mirror, baby! The new week kicks off with peas. Guster got his first bite of peas today -- or at least the mush that bills itself as peas. As was the case with the sweet potatoes, there was an initial grimace, followed by Gus quickly deciding that peas (not pork) was what's for dinner. I think he ate most -- if not all -- of the entire jar. He's a good eater. Sorry, once again, for an insufferably terrible pun.

Cute stuff below:

This was actually last weekend at the Egg & I. Dad loves this place, so does Grandpa A.
Hanging out.
Lounging in his velvet pjs. Gus is a Hugh Heffner in training.
Peas be with you.
And also with you.