Scrummer

We still can't escape the rugby comments here so we got him the shirt go with them (we don't mind the comments). A truly lovely retired delivery ward nurse stopped me in front of Marks & Spencer on Friday and chatted for a good ten minutes about my beautiful baby (yes, I get to brag a little since he's otherwise so much work). He was in a rare semi-doze state looking quite peaceful. She, like most, quizzed me on his birth weight (8lb 12oz at 38 weeks) and his age now (3 mos/14 weeks) and then the (friendly and happy) disbelief set in. As she left us she said, "Well he'll be a scrummer for sure!"

So we left the lovely nurse and went on our shopping trip. Where Finn came out of his drowsy state and howled through the entire M&S shop, where I made the choice to pull him out of his car seat, abandon the shopping basket, and put the groceries for our anniversary dinner in the car seat as I lugged him around the shop in my arms. Twice very kind M&S employees offered us a cart with a baby seat but that would have just increased screaming baby volume so we politely declined. Go M&S and we thank all the nice shoppers who didn't give us nasty looks.

Seriously, Travis and I may need to learn a little more about rugby if we're going to keep getting all these comments so we can discuss things a little more intelligently than just nodding and saying 'uh huh!'