Smocked

Hudson has noticed that he has yet to star in any posts. He said he prefers social to political commentary, and felt the last post was a touch strident. So. Here in the south, there are two types of mothers: those who think there is nothing cuter than a boy with smocking on his usually pastel (and often seersucker) clothes, and those who listen to their husbands when they say, "Not on MY son, you don't!" I am mostly the latter, but I thought these little turtles were cute and I figured the green was rather boyish. Apparently not. When he wore it to church, a man gave Hudson a big grin and asked how old SHE was. Sorry buddy. After almost 7 months of quiet observation, Hudson has decided he's ready to engage in some dialogue. To let you know he's ready to begin, he lets out a piercing squeal that sounds like a whistle. That's your cue to look at him, and say something, or, as he seems to prefer, sing something. When your little performance is over he will then offer this astute review: "Nnnnnnnnnnnn. Ahhhhhhhhhh." Then, if he's really impressed, another whistle. At this point you might think you can return to washing the dishes or slicing the strawberries. You will be mistaken. He would like more. The encore should involve singing AND dancing. Or, at the bare minimum, energetic motions. "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" was very popular this morning. Which is unfortunate considering I pulled something in my lower back yesterday. A martyr for the cause, that's me.