Chicago Moms Blog: A little village-wide plea to poison the ground water?

If you weren't totally convinced before that I'm a tree-hugging nut, this would be good confirmation. And now, I also think my suburb is playing Big Brother, so I'm probably a little bit of a conspiracy theorist, too. {No one is perfect, right?} I just don't like to be told how to kill my weeds. Scratch that. I don't like to be told to kill my weeds period! They are my weeds! Mine!

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In other news, I happened to capture a perfect moment while G. was soaking up some rays this afternoon during Baby E.'s snooze. You can see my son is a true fisherman who takes after his Buba and his {late} Papa Brian, as the kid loves fishing.

Even in the backyard.



In a tiny blue pool.

With no fish.

But for a real fisherman, that's not a problem. You make your fishing experience.

"Whatcha doin', buddy?" I asked, so extremely glad that my camera was nearby and had a memory card in it.

"I'm trying to catch some dogfish for my dinner for me and George," he said.



{You know, George the monkey? As in the curious monkey on PBS. He's G.'s first (semi) imaginary friend. Because he's not really imaginary but he's not exactly real either

"Ah," I said. "Should've guessed that."

Oh, and you'll be happy to know we are not actually going to have dog{fish} for dinner.