Erika and I were both out of town this weekend visiting Erika’s old stomping ground and one of my most favorite cities, Washington DC, to celebrate the impending birth in a few short of months of one of our college besties. Since I left both the hubs and T at home, it was a great weekend full of wine, girl talk, and s’mores banana bread. (Yes, there really is such an amazing, heavenly thing.)
So, Chris was in charge on the home front. He and T appear
to have had a great time together doing all sorts of manly stuff like watching tons of football and visiting Cabela's (and T has a
new gigantic shark stuffed animal to prove it). But a weekend with 100% dad duty
has to have at least one funny moment for me to zero in on. It turned out I didn’t have to pick T up at
Twin Peaks (AKA Hooters copycat) when I landed on Sunday after all, so I couldn't write about that (though I'm not sure
why the hubs thought I’d expect he was joking about the outing when he has taken T to
Twin Peaks in the past…).
Nope, instead, it was the random reaction T got when he
appears to have paired lunch with Ranch dressing. Apparently, he doesn’t have
the same all-things-go-better-with-Ranch gene that his daddy does. Instead, my kid turns rashy and splotchy.