Big Sunday

Yesterday was Don Juan aka Papa Juan aka Pappi's birthday. He was born before the official start of World War II, but not by much. John decided that we had to go take a gift over to grandma and grandpa's house. Being the young charmer that he is, he even got grandma to give him some soda (don't worry. i wouldn't do that. i have already been warned not to give him ice cream. i think he'd like it, but i don't know if his delicate constitution could handle it). So he was quite excited to see Grammy and Grampy G.

Later in the afternoon, it was time to go to the Brady Manse on Citrus Avenue to have an early birthday celebration for Uncle Rick who's birthday is on th 19th. He was born toward the latter part of one of the more tumultuous decades of the last century. It was a time where hippies drove around in the VW vans, listened to the Beatles, stopped being nice, and started being real. Yes, he was born at the end of the Sixties. I cannot speak to those times since I wasn't around, but I'm told that the hippies back then smelled just as bad as the hippies do today.

John's cousin, Adriana, took this nice photo of Uncle Rick and John. The girl is going to turn 4 in November, but she's already sharp as a tack and a fairly good photographer. She was quite attentive to John during the party. She helped to feed him, push him on a swing, and change his diaper. Well, maybe she didn't help change the diaper, but she did offer to help. I think it was the little blob of yellow goodness in John's diaper that prevented her from helping. I don't blame her. I still get freaked out and pray that he doesn't have poop in his diaper when I go to change him.

Anwho, Adriana kept fawning all over John and telling him that she loves him. She's serving notice that she wants to be John's favorite cousin. The rest of you cousins need to step up your efforts to curry favor with John.