Look at my feet, just like Mom’s

I’m reading my dad a story before his Saturday afternoon nap. Doesn’t he look like he’s getting sleepy?

Yesterday, Mom and I went to visit Dad at work, and went for a little walk.

Today was a very big day. I sat on Dad’s lap and watched my very first baseball game!… and… my very first Red Sox game too. The Red Sox won and are no moving on the LCS against Cleveland or New York. I guess we’ll see. Dad told me that being a Silverman I kinda have to be a Red Sox fan… and that Grandma won’t have it any other way.

I had this “green-shirt-thing” going… I got lots of compliments on it. So of course someone comes along and trys to “bite” my style. And to make matters worse, it’s my Dad. When I accused him of stealing my look, he replied, “You’re the one who looks like like me, so who’s copying who?”

He’s got a point… but I just played it cool and told him that I get my good looks from Mom.

Here I am chilling on top of Dad. He’s pretty comfortable… except… his face is kinda scratchy. His shirt on the other hand is very soft. Mom is the queen of soft, sweet smelling laundry. She got that gene from Gammy Carol. So back the the scratchy face… come to think of it… it’s not just weekends that Dad’s face is scratchy… it’s pretty much all the time. Can someone tell him that the Miami Vice look is um… a bit dated. I wonder if he rolls the sleeves up on his blazers?

This evening we had dinner with my sister Madison and my Grandma Ellie. They ate Chinese food, I drank milk… AGAIN. I like milk, I especially like it when I get it from Mom (directly from Mom… the bottle is not as soft and warm). But you’d think I could try something else? Everyone has been really great about bringing over food… but did I get to try Aunt Judy’s Lasagna? No. Thanks Dad. You know, you could afford to pass up that second piece. Anyway, everyone wants to kiss me and am starting to feel claustrophobic. Can someone tell Mom and Dad to bring Molly back?