Ha ha ha.

A funny moment from yesterday: For fun, Bethany asked Luke if he could laugh. He stared straight ahead, eyes glazed, and opened his mouth into a circle; then emitted a dull, quiet, slow, monotone "Ha. Ha. Ha." Clearly, he followed the letter rather than the spirit of Mom's request.

This morning, Luke entered the local coffee shop and began to sing his invented song (the same tune every time): "Ba ba ba BOP, Ba ba ba BOP..." Heads turned, and all eyes were on the not-yet-three-foot white-haired singing toddler. Oblivious, Luke continued his song on a stroll all the way through the coffee shop.

On another occasion this week, Luke insisted on taking the popping mower downtown on errands. The pops did not seem loud as he cruised down the sidewalks. But then we entered Kinkos, where silence dominates the only sound there, the faint hum of copy machines. Bethany opened the door, the white-haired toddler entered, pushing his popping mower, and all activity in Kinkos ceased as eyes rolled his direction to see what on earth could be making such a thunderous sound. It was Luke.

And so goes our life here in Davis.


Last evening, Richie occupied the Orchard Park Gang (a crew from China, Argentina, and Chile) with an obstacle course. Even Luke joined the fun, but kept a wee bit (okay, a lot) behind the rest. He ran with all his might, with his earnest, crooked, little run; and one boy spent a lot of time making fun of his run; and protective Mama Bear wanted to be mean back to the mean little boy. But she wasn't. She'll just post his meanness on the Internet instead. So there.


Tired of running up and down the hill for the obstacle course, Luke speeds along on an abandoned tricycle.


Saturday morning, Richie and Nick went for a 2.5-hour bike ride from Davis up into the hills of Vacaville, then biked back to Winters, where they met up with Beth, Bethany, Timothy, and Luke for breakfast at Putah Creek Cafe. The boys were highly entertaining little partners in crime. They fought over crackers, fought over Chex, fought over sippy cups, and copied each other's every move.


Breakfast aftermath. Timothy searches through Bethany's wallet while Luke does lip tricks.


Then Luke got down from the bench and just plopped down in the middle of the sidewalk to read. "Hm. What have we here?"


Nick ("Nit"), Beth ("Bat"), and Timothy ("Tatum") will be moving by the end of this month, and we are already getting quite depressed about it. It's for real this time, as they are kicked out of Orchard Park on September 30th. We have offered to have them live with us in all our extra space, and have also threatened to sabotage their car and steal their wheels so they just can't leave. We will miss them so much! Timothy and Luke are the closest of friends, and Luke talks about all of them all of the time (almost not an exaggeration).


"Look, Dad! HAT!" (Swim diaper, rather.)


Pretending to go ny ny on Mama's "napping couch."


Today for Labor Day we headed out early with our friends JJ and Jen and made it to Pacifica by about 9:30. Luke promptly found a BIG puddle to wade in. This kept him occupied for nearly an hour.


Squat. Must feel good to get that boom-boom wet.


The guys go surf, and Luke breaks into sobs.


Daddy runs back to comfort Luke and to assure him that he will not stay in the ocean forever.


Heading out to surf. Second try. Luke was more emotionally stable this time.


On to chasing seagulls! After over ten unsuccessful attempts, Luke crouched down into a low squat and cried.


On our way home: balancing cookies on his head. Luke has been veeery into balancing things on his head lately. Sippy cups, books, raisins...


Ha!


And then Luke held Mama's hand and fell asleep. And slept the whole way home. And Mama got a nap, too. And Mama was happy. And you know what they say if Mama ain't happy... So with Mama being happy, everyone was happy, and so ended our three-day weekend.

Tomorrow: 21-week ultrasound of the Baby!!! We are telling the doctor right off the bat that we do not want to know which brand of baby we are having. Four months of suspense ahead.