All work...some play

The other day when I went to clean, Frankie decided that he was the only one capable of vacuuming. Luckily he relented shortly thereafter and allowed me to finish up.


Hangin' out, not much to do but climb onto, and then jump off of, the furniture.


It's been unseasonably warm for the past week or so, and trust me, I'm not complaining. Last Saturday, Frankie and Juston spent most of the day in the yard while I hit the streets to canvass for our charter school. I'm our neighborhood education committee chair, and they keep me plenty busy. Back to Frankie - he loves to go outside and push his trucks around the backyard. Fortunately for him, we haven't raked up our fall leaves, so there are plenty to put in the back of the dump truck.




Every time I pull out the camera, Frankie takes it from me and fills my memory card with images of the ceiling, Bridget's tail, close-ups of my gut, etc., etc., etc. Is it too early to teach him about the concept of 'head room'?