We had dinner with one of Biscuit's former day care teachers. The teacher moved back to his home state to help take care of his elderly grandmother, and when he decided to come to town for a visit, he got in touch with us. Well, us and a bunch of the other kids who used to be in his class.
Biscuit talked his ears off and couldn't help himself from crawling all over his former teacher.
And although I don't really have a story to share tonight, I can share a picture from the weekend.
Biscuit was all about playing cowboy Saturday afternoon. We had to speak cowboy, "Howdy, pardner," and "let's rustle up some grub." And we all had to ride our horses. Jeff's horse is xx, and my horse gets a new name every time we play cowboys, just because I know it annoys Biscuit.
So even though he was still dressed in his pajamas, Biscuit decided to, as he calls it, "cowboy up."
He put his cowboy duds on over his pajamas, looked himself up and down and said to me, "Yep, I'm a cowboy."
"Lookin' good," I said to him. Then Biscuit picked up his yellow bandana and pulled it over his head.
"Mom, if I wasn't a cowboy before, I certainly am one now!" Biscuit said.
And he was right.
|Cowboy Biscuit comes complete with a |
deadly serious stare and a farmer's tan.