Pow Pow

You would think that the best part of this past Sunday's family adventure in the mountains would be that the G got to go skiing for the first time.












that his face looked like this most of the day








That at lunch I ate a burger and fry combo like a lady in lust breaking all my "i'm not eating another carb" promises and loving every minute of it

That the G thankfully did not pee his pants as we whisked him from the slopes and desperately tried to peel him out of five bazillion layers

That everytime someone wiped out on the bunny hill the G was right there in their face offering some words of comfort"lady are you ok? i hope you're ok."

No, no the best part of the day was watching the Docta teach the G to ski.
"He's doing it! He's skiing" he would shout up to me.






"He's loving it"






To be honest I think the G was just projecting all that gooey happiness beaming from his giddy Papa who can't wait to show him the vista from the top of the mountain very very soon.






And the Pow Pow, the powder, in Utah is so deep G that you need a snorkel. We'll go there someday too little bugabug...