And then, there's normal life

You know, even with the honeymoon, there are occasional bouts of non-honeymoon. Friday morning, I came upstairs to convince my boy to come down for breakfast and put on clothes and go potty, and found him sitting at the top of the stairs reading FOX IN SOCKS to the dog. I rounded the corner, said "Come down for breakfast now," and he responded by shouting to the dog:

Hey look! A great ugly ogre!

It's not all smooching all the time. That's probably a good thing.