Taken at The Balboa Arcade, Balboa Peninsula, Newport Beach, California, Spring 2001.
How is it already five years since this picture was taken? The cliche is so true - it seems like just yesterday that he was born. He came into this world a wise old sage and he did it with style. Born in a big oval bathtub at home, up through that clear water into this world filled with gravity.
He ate voraciously and slept little in the early days. He continues the former but has been a blessedly good and hard slumberer since his sixth month. When he was not quite a year old he would sit in that high chair and beam at me, laugh even, with a mouth full of whatever I put in front of him. But the pickles? Oh, the pickles...sitting in that seat with hair sticking straight up from the brown rice that doubled as spiky hair product, he would curl up those fat dimpled little fists and proceed to bang them on his tray in rythym to the chant, "bika! bika! bika!" - pickle in baby speak. The chant would continue loud and happy until I could get them cut into little bits and onto the tray. Little fingers shoveling all the pieces in and licking the juice away until it would start all over again, "bika! bika! bika!"
You know, I don't even remember how I would get away with ebbing the constant flow of pickles without tears. I only remember laughing right along with him and crying, too. Crying for my joy and luck and the distinct feeling that I must have done something right somewhere along the way to deserve such an exquisite creature as my very own son. My PickleBoy.
...as always the original PBF queen is hulaseventy, and look, we got mentioned in 52 Project Jeffrey's blog too. Cool.