Dylan's only moment of weakness was at the very end of our shopping. We had already picked out cookies from the bakery when an array of brightly colored cupcakes caught his eye. He stood innocently next to the cupcakes refusing to budge an inch. After much coaxing and a promise of a cookie in the car, we went to the check out.
As we were checking out, the cashier cooed at Micah and asked, "What a big baby!! What is he, 4-5 months old?" In any other scenario I might not mind the question but with Micah, when people ask how old he is and I tell them, they look confused and concerned about his size. So then to address their concerned look, I usually feel compelled to explain that he had a rough start with a 3.5 month hospital stay. This just concerns them more. So to avoid the whole concerned look, I said "Yes! He's 4-5 months old."
Am I horrible? I just hate explaining his situation to perfect strangers and I can't bare their looks of concern... So I lie.
Here is a picture of my perfect-sized 10 month old. He's SO happy! I just love his little personality!!