The baby is in love with Ritz crackers. We love that they are fatty enough to keep his tummy full for a little while, and he loves the crumbly tastiness that is cheap cracker. The 9 month old the size of an 18 month old knows how to eat. Cannot stand on his own two feet, but he can hold a bottle on his own. Priorities.
He does not love finishing crackers. So little half eaten bits are set on tables and forgotten as we walk away to change a diaper or explore the world.
Last night I look to my bedside table and there’s a cracker. I go to get coffee this morning, there’s a cracker. I found a cracker in coat pocket. I cannot escape cracker remnants.
I hate to come all this way for a cheap dad joke, but I think I’m cracking up.
Good night everybody!