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Today, the family met up with Catherine and Carl for brunch. We figured we'd eat, chat, caffeinate, and go on with our regular Saturday activities. Not so. Much to my shock and delight, they never left. Seriously. We met at 11ish and they headed home about 12 hours later. I wasn’t sure Nate and I could still do that to people.

11:30 am: Eggs all around! Coffee and mimosas too, please.
12:30 pm: Desert? After brunch? Why not.
1:00 pm: You want to see our disaster apartment? Uh, ok. It's a disaster, you realize.
1:30 pm: Carl and I debate about how to make the living/dining area work. There's much discussion of how to properly mix design eras and spatial relations.
2:30 pm: Oh, lordy: Furniture is getting moved and the drill is in full effect!
3:30 pm: Catherine has been at our house so long, she has proceeded to nap on the couch.
4:00 pm: Carl is inspired by the grill and declares burgers and corn on the cob will be made. The boys head to the grocery store.
5:00 pm: Catherine, Theo and I take a walk and shop for dresses and chocolate.
6:00 pm: There is Theo-bouncing, cheese-eating, and wine-drinking in the backyard while Carl does his thing.
7:00 pm: My tuckered out boy hits the hay and the rest of us hang in yard.

What followed was haze of eating and drinking and conversations about, among other things, when one first farted in front of their significant other, belligerent bosses, belligerent drunks—the usual.

Such a non-parenthood kind of day. So much so, that I actually feel a twinge of guilt. But my best guess is Theo was not technically neglected today. He just wasn’t the star of the show.
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