It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Spud

Spud's first winter solstice is approaching, and with it some chilly arctic air. Since he is unable to communicate in English just yet and can't tell us if he's cold or not, we tend to err on the side of completely mummifying him. Believe it or not, there is an actual baby under there somewhere, preparing for a stroll.



Despite the fact that his parents are both scientists, he may be secretly questioning all of the fuss about climate change, considering it's a hell of a lot colder now than when he first got here a few months ago. "Global warming my diapered ass".



The outdoor Christmas lights are on (notice I did not say that "the lights are put up"; I leave them up all year, and just plug them in when December arrives. Laziness can be useful sometimes, like math).



The first ornament to go on our delicious-smelling pine tree is engraved with "Baby's First Christmas, 2009" (in his hands, below). Spud helped to install it on the tree and picked the perfect spot.



He was somewhat underwhelmed with the experience. He'll be a LOT more excited about the holidays in a year or two, I suspect. His baby brain may be thinking: "Let me get this straight: you people chop down a live conifer tree, drag it into the house and prop it up, and then cover it with random plastic crap and multi-hued lights, while dogs bark out 'Jingle Bells' on the radio. That's pretty weak, man."



He was also introduced to the yuletide tradition of the nog of the egg (he sniffed it) and Daddy's Santa mug, which since 1975 has only been used for eggnog and has never been sullied by any other beverage.



The finished product. With any luck, it will last until February. We like to keep the tree up until at least half of the needles have fallen off.